#lewis hamilton x you
Text
She’s Not So Little Anymore
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: none, dad Lewis yes pls
“You’re not leaving the house until you change your clothes!”
“But dad-“ Harper stammered in a broken voice and teary eyes.
“There’s no but, I said what I said. You can go out with your friends after you put some clothes on. End of discussion.” Lewis told his daughter sternly before turning and heading towards the living room.
“I hate you!!” Harper growled bursting into tears and slamming the door of her room.
“Don’t slam the door at me!” He said in a raised tone. Sitting on the couch he sighed and rubbed his face feeling awful because of the argument between him and his fifteen-year-old daughter.
It was not natural for Lewis to yell and get into heated arguments with his daughter. The two have always had a special relationship - she was daddy's little girl for whom he would remove the stars from the sky just to make her happy. Harper loved and was just as close to you as she was to Lewis, but still, her daddy has always been her number one.
But since Harper entered her teenage phase, it has become very difficult for Lewis to accept that she is actually growing up, that she is changing, that she is interested in some other things that are actually normal for her age.
He really was having a hard time facing the fact that his little girl is not so little anymore. That’s why often broke out arguments between the two of them when Harper would stay out too late with her friends, when she would come home late or mention that she had a crush on a boy or for example like today when she would wear something that Lewis thought was too revealing.
Lewis did all this because he loves her too much and wants to protect her, but, of course, the teenager thinks that her father is working against her and that he is "purposely ruining her life".
Fortunately, not long after the argument, you came back from grocery shopping and found Lewis sitting on the couch looking at the switched off TV.
“Hi, baby” You greeted him happily, but you felt a strange energy in the air.
“Hey” He muttered not turning to look at you.
“Is everything okay?” You ask suspiciously, leaving the heavy bags on the hallway floor.
“Everything is fine except our daughter just told me she hates me”
You immediately knew what it was about. You were aware of how much it affected Lewis. You weren't always happy with some of your daughter's behaviors either, but you understood that it was just a phase and that it would pass, but you also understood that it was difficult for Lewis to face it.
You sighed walking up closer to the couch to Lewis from behind and bent down to wrap your arms around him.
“And that is why?” You asked pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Because she thinks it’s normal to leave the house wearing a short ass dress that doesn’t even have any straps God forbid some sleeves” He says visibly upset and you can’t help but chuckle at him. “That’s not funny, y/n?”
“That’s not, but you are” You say making yourself comfortable in his lap. “You’re being too overprotective of her-“
“Of course I’m overprotective of her, she’s my little girl!” He cuts you off trying to justify his actions.
“Would you let me finish, please?”
“I’m sorry..”
“She’s no longer a little girl, Lew. You have to make your peace with that. Sometimes I don't like her clothing choices or her behavior either, but that's why we're here to guide her. But you forbid her too many things and she sees it as you trying to control her.”
“I just..” He sighs leaning his head against your chest. “I just want to protect her.. I miss the time when she was with me non-stop. We used to do so many things together now she only wants to hang out with her friends.”
“Baby, that’s normal. If it were any different, we would have been worried.” You assure him putting your hands on his cheeks. “You’re still her number one, you’ll always be.”
“Youe ability to calm me down amazes me.” He smiles at your soothing and comforting words. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you more than you know.”
“I love you too, baby” You place a soft kiss on his lips. “Now go and talk to her”
Lewis immediately got up and headed towards Harper's room while you decided to sort the groceries you had brought into the house a little while ago.
“My princess?” Lewis said gently knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”
Almost the same second, the door opened revealing crying Harper who was still sobbing. What Lewis didn't expect was for Harper to give him a tight hug and start crying in his arms.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Lewis asked a little worried.
“Because you made me say that I hate you. And I don’t hate you, daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.” She cried. It stung her as much as it stung Lewis because Harper is aware of how special her relationship with her father is.
“Baby, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry too.” He comforted her rubbing her back. “I don’t like when we can’t talk things out and I hate when we argue. We don’t do that, that’s not us.”
“I know we don’t do that. I don’t like it either” She said quietly.
“It’s hard for me to accept that you’re growing up and that you are no longer my little girl.” He lifts up her head to look at her. “I promise to try to be more understanding of your wishes.”
“Daddy, I’m always gonna be your little girl.” Her words warmed Lewis's heart. She knew what she meant by that. The love Harper has for her dad will always be strong and special and nothing can ever replace it. Lewis was grinning like a child thinking how he is the luckiest man in the world to have the two best girls in his life, Harper and you.
#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 fic#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 one shot#f1 imagine
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Pink + White ❀
lewis hamilton x fem!reader
wc: 1.2k+
warnings: none just fluff!
authors note: oneshot!! this is literally just fluff!!! inspired by pink + white by frank ocean!! don’t know how i feel about this one either 😭 any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!
f1 masterlist
"It's always something with you, isn't it? It's always an emergency," you say cheekily, a playful smile spreading across your face as you stand at the doorway of Lewis’s driver room. The paddock is a hive of activity, the anticipation for the race buzzing in the air, but here, in this moment, it feels like just the two of you.
Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he sits on the edge of the small sofa. "What can I say? I needed to see you. Forgot my headphones, can you believe that?" He pats his thighs, inviting you over.
You roll your eyes, knowing full well that the 'emergency' was just an excuse to steal a moment with you. “I knew it! You didn’t forget your headphones. You just wanted to see me.”
He laughs, a warm, rich sound that makes your heart flutter. "Guilty as charged. Come here," he says, his hands reaching out for you.
You step closer, and he gently pulls you between his legs, his hands settling comfortably on your waist. The familiar warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. You lean into him, your foreheads touching, sharing a quiet moment amid the pre-race chaos.
"I missed you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "I’ve been so busy today with meetings and interviews, I barely had a second to myself."
You smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. "I missed you too. It’s been a hectic day."
He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I couldn’t wait until after the race to see you. I needed a little bit of you to get through the day."
You feel a warmth spread through you, your heart swelling with affection. "Well, here I am," you say softly. "Consider this your pre-race good luck charm."
Lewis’s grin widens, and he leans in to kiss you. It’s a gentle, lingering kiss that makes your heart race. When he pulls back, he starts peppering kisses all over your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead—making you giggle.
“Lewis!” you laugh, trying to squirm away from his playful assault. “You’re going to smudge my makeup!”
He chuckles, his hands firm on your waist. "I don’t care. I want my kisses!"
You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re so clingy and cute, it’s adorable.”
For a few minutes, you just stay like that, wrapped up in each other, sharing soft kisses and whispered words. It’s a precious respite from the frenzy of the race day, a moment to recharge and reconnect.
As the minutes tick by, you continue to chat, the conversation flowing easily between you. You talk about everything and nothing—his meetings, your plans for the rest of the day, little inside jokes that only the two of you share. It’s these moments, the simple, everyday interactions, that make your relationship so special.
Lewis’s fingers trace idle patterns on your back as he talks, his touch sending pleasant shivers down your spine. "You know," he says, a thoughtful look crossing his face, "I’ve been thinking about taking some time off after the season ends. Just you and me, somewhere quiet. What do you think?"
Your eyes light up at the idea. "I think that sounds perfect. Where were you thinking?"
"Maybe a beach somewhere. Just us, the ocean, and no distractions."
You smile, imagining the two of you lounging on a sunny beach, the sound of the waves in the background. "That sounds amazing. I’d love that."
He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. "Then it’s a plan."
You kiss him softly, your heart swelling with love. "I can’t wait."
The sound of a knock on the door breaks the spell, and you both look up, slightly startled. Lewis sighs, his hands slipping from your waist. “Time to go.” he says reluctantly.
You nod, stepping back to give him space. "I know. Go do what you do best. I’ll be cheering for you."
He stands, pulling you into a final, tight hug. "Thank you for coming baby, even if it was just for a few minutes. I needed this."
You squeeze him back, your head resting against his chest. "Anytime, baby. I’m always here for you."
He kisses the top of your head, then reluctantly lets you go. "I’ll see you after the race."
You smile, giving him one last kiss on the lips before heading for the door. "Good luck. I love you."
"I love you too," he replies, watching you leave, a soft smile on his face.
⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱
A few days later, you’re at home, the quiet peace a stark contrast to the wild energy of the race track. You’re in the kitchen, baking some of Lewis’s favorite cookies, when you hear the door open.
“Baby, I’m home!” Lewis calls out, his voice filling you with warmth.
“In the kitchen!” you reply, smiling as you wipe your hands on a towel.
Lewis walks in, his face lighting up when he sees you. “Something smells amazing,” he says, coming over to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Just a little treat for my hardworking husband,” you say, turning your head to kiss his cheek.
He smiles, a contented sigh escaping him. “You always know how to make everything better.”
You lean back into him, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “I try.”
The two of you spend the rest of the evening together, enjoying the simple pleasures of home. After dinner, you settle on the couch, Lewis’s head resting in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair.
“I’ve been thinking about that beach trip we talked about,” he says, looking up at you with a soft smile.
“Oh? Have you made any plans?” you ask, intrigued.
He nods, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve booked us a place in the Maldives. Just you, me, and the ocean.”
Your eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Lew, that sounds amazing honey! When do we leave?”
“Next week,” he replies, grinning at your reaction.
You lean down to kiss him, your heart overflowing with love. “I can’t wait.”
⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱
The moment you step off the plane, you’re enveloped by the warm, salty breeze and the sound of waves gently crashing against the shore. It’s paradise, and you can’t wait to explore it with Lewis.
Your villa is a stunning overwater bungalow, complete with a private deck and direct access to the crystal-clear ocean. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the sight of a beautifully decorated space, the perfect blend of luxury and comfort.
“This place is beautiful,” you say, turning to Lewis with a wide smile.
He pulls you into his arms, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “I wanted this to be special. Just for us.”
“It’s perfect. I love you.,” you reply smiling, feeling a surge of gratitude and love.
“I love you” he says as his lips meet yours.
Bonus:
y/n_ig
liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, beyoncè, oscarpiastri and 5,968,987 others
life with you ❤️
comments have been limited 
lewishamilton
liked by y/n_ig, charlesleclerc, almave, gerogerussell, oscarpiastri and 5,998,937 others
is perfect ❤️
comments have been limited
© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.
#ꨄ࿎victoria’s writings!࿎ꨄ#lewis hamilton#f1 lewis#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#f1#formula one#formula 1 smau#lh44#fluff#lewis hamilton fluff
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too fast - l.h.
pairing: lewis hamilton x assistant!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, ANGST, lewis is kind of an asshole in this but he makes up for it, implication of smut, drug and alcohol usage, idk what else to include so if y'all find somethin' lemme know!
a/n: yeah here we go with the assistant and famous celebrity/athlete trope. i will always be a fan of this trope, no matter what. this fic is also heavily inspired by the song too fast by sonder. hope y'all enjoy! i figured i would take a small break from the toto content for the moment! <3
"so how are things lately?"
the lights of vegas glitter all around as you inhale, shrugging slightly, "could be better, could be worse."
"yeah?"
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
"well i'm single," you avoid his gaze as you exhale, the smoke billowing into the cool air, "so yeah, things aren't great. maybe if you paid attention to our conversations you'd know."
"oh, right," he plucks the blunt out of your hands, "i don't know if you know, but i have other shit to worry about right now other than your life troubles."
"fuck you," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "we spend nearly every waking moment together and you don’t even listen to a single word that comes out of my mouth.”
“i mean,” he coughs, “that’s why you’re my assistant, and not my team principal. i don’t have to listen to you.”
“are you fucking serious right now?” you swivel on your heel, facing him.
lewis hamilton, eight time world champion stands beside you, leaning over the balcony of his suite. beneath you, the headlights of cars flash, the white noise of airplane engines humming overhead. there are the occasional beeps of horns, laughter from the other mercedes crew on other balconies, and the roar of luxury cars as they peel down the straights.
yet, lewis is as poised as ever, blunt in one hand, a bottle of heineken in the other. his gaze is glossy as he peers over at you, his nose piercing glittering in the dim light. his lips are pursed, as if he was processing the words that just came out of his mouth.
“hey,” he begins, setting the blunt on the ashtray, “i-i didn’t mean that.”
“i would sure fucking hope so,” tears well up in your eyes, heat flourishing through your cheeks and into your neck, “what the fuck is wrong with you? i literally do everything for you. i order all of your favorite things. i organize your ubers, your catering, other deliveries. i make your appointments with stylists. i book your photoshoots. i stock your fridge. i braid your hair for you. fuck lewis, i even call you every morning to make sure you’re up and awake. i can’t even get you to listen to me for three seconds?”
shaking your head, you bring your hands to your face, in a vain attempt to hide the fact that you were now sobbing. the tears flow, droplets splattering on your top as your shoulders shake, “what the fuck do i have to do to be listened to around here?”
“hey,” lewis takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around your wrists, “hey, i’m sorry. it was just a rough day. qualifying didn’t go as planned. i’m so fucking sorry.”
“s-sorry?” you choke out, “you just told me you don’t even listen to me and all i get is sorry? i know that sometimes practices don’t go according to plan but you can’t just be a fucking asshole and expect me to be okay with it.”
“i know,” lewis exhales, wrapping his arms around you, “i really fucked up, okay? something about your tone just really set me off, and i am so sorry. i got into it with toto earlier, that’s probably why i’ve been so bitter tonight.”
ah, so that was the reason behind the little outburst.
ever since lewis announced his departure from mercedes at the end of the 2024 season, the once positive relationship between the driver and his team principal was quickly deteriorating. frequent arguments about the car, snippy radio exchanges, and speculations from the press were only contributing to the snowball effect that was going to eventually lead to an inevitable avalanche.
as lewis’ assistant, sometimes you wondered if you knew him better than he knew himself. over the years, you had practically learned everything under the sun about the british driver. of course, when he came back from qualifying a little quieter than usual, you figured something had happened in the paddock.
you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what.
often times, the two of you joked that you acted like an old married couple the way you bickered. yet, there was nothing as hurtful or spiteful as the exchange that happened minutes ago. part of you knew that he didn’t mean it, but part of you couldn’t let it go because of his inebriated state.
sometimes drunk words were just sober thoughts.
“do you really think you don’t have to listen to me because of my status?”
“no,” his voice is small, “i don’t think that.”
“then why did you say it?”
“i d-don’t know,” you can hear his voice falter, “i-i was just upset from earlier. i usually don’t lash out like that.”
a sniffle fills your ears, his chest heaving slightly. glancing up, you notice the glimmer of a tear as it slips down his cheek, the driver’s lip trembling.
“lewis,” the notes in your tone are gentle, “is everything okay?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i-i’m sorry.”
“what’s wrong?”
“i do listen to you,” squeezing his eyes shut, he allows you to wipe away a tear, “i promise i listen to you. i don’t want you to ever feel like i don’t. i’m sorry, i’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and–”
“don’t worry about me,” tenderly, you caress his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “i promise that i will survive. maybe you can hook me up with someone on the grid, yeah?”
“i can’t do that.”
“why not?” you arch a brow.
“because there is no one else i would want you with on that grid but me,” his eyes open, meeting yours, “i’m so upset because i hurt you. i have feelings for you, and seeing you hurt like that, it nearly split me into two.”
“lewis,” your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “i-i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“come on,” he tuts, “you know why you ended things with that guy. he was getting frustrated at how much time we were spending together. and in your heart, you know that you can’t stay away from me. the way you look at me, i know that you feel the same way. you wouldn’t learn how to do my favorite hairstyles if there wasn’t some sort of love there. you wouldn’t order my favorite food without asking if you didn’t care. you wouldn’t spend all of this time with me if you didn’t like me.”
“maybe i do, just a little bit.”
“only a little bit?” he cocks his head, “you can’t just admit you’re in love with me?”
“what if i was?”
“hmm,” he hums, his mouth only millimeters from yours, “i’d tell you i was in love with you too.”
“you would have to promise me something, though.”
“anything.”
“would you slow down a little on your lifestyle?” you inquire, slightly testing the waters to see how far you could go.
“and what does that entail?” a hand finds its way to the base of your neck, warm and comforting as a breeze rolls through.
“would you quit going to the strip clubs? driving recklessly? living the fast life?”
“if it meant that it would make you happy and secure, yes,” the words are brimmed with authenticity, “i want to make you the happiest woman on earth. i’d do anything for you.”
“would you quit tomorrow?”
“oh love,” he chuckles, “i’ll quit this instant.”
“and i’ll keep taking care of you.”
“promise?” his voice softens, “you promise you’ll stick by my side? even after i leave mercedes?”
“i promise.”
the corners of his lips curl into a smug smirk, the driver leaning in even closer.
“that only means we get to seal that promise with a kiss then, huh?”
#lewis hamilton#f1#formula 1#formula one#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#lewis hamilton fic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader
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I'm yours, only yours - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
requests: "Something spicy about that GP from Las Vegas and that Versace jacket..." - anon 1; and "they go to party and Lewis is possessive and jealous, because there are guys all over her, so when they go home…. You know what happens hihihi" - anon 2
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities (all sorts), jealous Lewis
Also, wrap it before you tap it
wordcount: +2K
a/n: I combined two requests because they were pretty similar. Also that Versace jacket really lives rent free in our heads doesn't it?!
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
______________________________________________________________
His fingers fiddled with the zipper of your dress as you looked at him in the mirror. His eyes gleaming as he took your full outfit, a black stapple Versace minidress, the perfect pair to his custom Vegas GP jacket.
"We look stunning, love" He stated, his voice rich
“You don’t look so bad yourself. I might have to ask Donatella for a jacket like that though, or steal yours” you pondered, catching his eyes before smirking and winking at him.
“Hamilton written in the back and all?” He smirked as he turned you to him
“Maybe” you whispered, lips close to his, leaning your body into his “but only if it comes with the matching accessory”
His own Versace was nothing short of amazing. The black and red leather shimmered, the shoulders structured yet perfectly fitting for Lewis' broad frame. But the real showstopper was the back. Embroidered in bold letters across, impossible to miss, was his name alongside the famous brand.
The moment Lewis walked into the club, a hush fell over the crowd. Heads snapped in his direction, eyes widening at the jacket, at you, at him. Women practically materialized at his side, batting their eyelashes and giggling inanely.
You watched, initially amused, as Lewis politely deflected their advances. You exchanged knowing glances with Miles and Daniel, silently enjoying the show.
"He's a natural at this, isn't he?" Miles remarked, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"Born for this." Daniel chimed in, shaking his head with mock seriousness.
But the amusement soon faded, at least yours, as a familiar face pushed its way through the throng, a woman you recognized from Lewis' pre-you days. Someone you knew had been on his rotations.
She sashayed up to the booth, all smiles and swaying hips, greeting Lewis with an overly familiar hug, lingering a beat too long, and then going around the group, doling out air kisses.
It wasn’t until she reached you that her smile turned tight. "So," she purred, leaning in close enough for only you to hear, "you're the one, huh?" Her voice dripped with a condescending tone as she faked a kiss on your cheek.
She managed to linger for a while, grabbing Lewis' attention with a forced intimacy that made your skin crawl. You could practically feel the temperature around you drop as your smile faltered. Daniel noticing the shift in your demeanor.
"Everything alright, (Y/N)?" he asked kindly as you forced him a smile. "Yeah, of course" you muttered, focusing on Miles’ anecdotes as if the whole exchange wasn’t happening in front of your eyes.
But the damage was done. The playful flirting Lewis had been indulging in suddenly felt disrespectful, a blatant disregard for the boundaries of your relationship.
When the woman finally sashayed away, you gave Lewis the silent treatment, the coldness palpable. He looked at you, a frown creasing his forehead, but you turned away, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with anyone else.
The tension simmered as the night wore on. You excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to escape the suffocating stares.
As you emerged back, you bumped into a tall figure coming out of the men's room. A guy you briefly had a fling with, years ago. "Hey (Y/N)! Fancy seeing you here," he exclaimed, a surprised smile lighting up his face.
You made sure the small talk flowed easily, going back to the VIP booth felt like going back to your own version of a gilded cage. Without thinking, you found yourself laughing at one of his jokes and leaning a bit too much into him to hear his voice with the music.
You could feel a searing gaze cutting through the air and as you turned, you saw Lewis standing by the railing of the second floor, his jaw clenched, a familiar, yet unusual, glint of possessiveness in his eyes.
A mischievous glint sparked in your own eyes. Lewis had been playing with fire all night, and now it was your turn. You knew it was petty, childish even, but you wanted him to feel a sliver of the insecurity you'd felt just moments ago.
"So," Alex said, extending his arm, "care to join me for a drink?"
You hesitated for a beat, stealing yet another glance at Lewis. His jaw was even tighter now, and you could practically see the steam rising from his ears. A tiny smile tugged at your lips.
"Sure," you agreed, taking Alex's lead. "I could use another drink."
But as you walked towards the bar, a hand gripped your arm, spinning you around. Lewis stood before you, his brow furrowed and the poker face he carried, but there was a fire in his eyes that you felt almost proud to have ignited.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "we're leaving."
Before you could protest, he shrugged off his custom Versace, draping it over your shoulders, the fabric enveloping you in his scent. The message was clear - you were his.
He took your hand, his grip surprisingly firm, positioning you in front of him to navigate through the throng of people, his broad shoulders parting the crowd like a wave. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his forceful actions, but you allowed him to lead you.
The car lurched out of the club, leaving the neon lights and music behind. Lewis, a volcano on the verge of eruption moments ago, was now a simmering pot. His silence was deafening, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine and the thumping of his thumb on your thigh.
You stole a glance at him, his jaw still clenched, the custom jacket draped carelessly on your lap. A playful smile tugged at your lips. "Feeling a little possessive, are we?" you teased, unable to resist poking the simmering pot.
“Not here, Y/n” He shot you a dark glance, and said nothing after.
"Seems like someone can't handle a little taste of his own medicine," you continued, your voice laced with amusement. He remained brooding, the only response a barely audible "hmmph."
You sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright," you conceded, holding your hands up in mock surrender. "Maybe the next time a pretty face throws themselves at you, you'll think twice before turning on the charm offensive."
Silence. Lewis stared out the window, his expression unreadable, his grip tightening on your flesh the only sign you were getting on his nerves.
As the lights changed with the background Lewis remained stubbornly monosyllabic, his silence a potent counterpoint to your teasing. It was both frustrating and oddly exhilarating.
Finally, reaching the hotel, Lewis thanked the driver and stalked out with a curt, "Come on" leaving you to get out as he took the jacket and your purse in his hands.
Inside the dimly lit hotel room, the tension between you and Lewis was palpable, thickening the air like a heavy fog. He looked at you with a mix of frustration and desire, his eyes dark with possessiveness.
Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his movements deliberate and confident. His fingers traced the lines of your face as you held his gaze, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you.
“You really thought she was any match for you?” Lewis's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, carrying with it a hint of accusation.
“I know she isn’t. But it’s not about her, it’s about how you led her on,” you replied, your tone tinged with defiance and hurt.
His eyes flickered down to your dress; a fleeting glance filled with desire. “Who’s that guy?” he asked, his voice laced with a quiet intensity.
“Someone I had a thing with, years ago,” you admitted, the memories of the past intertwining with the present moment.
“I hope he knows you’re taken now,” Lewis remarked, a note of possessiveness creeping into his tone.
As the conversation hung in the air like an unspoken promise, he deftly reached behind you, fingers finding the zipper of your dress. With a fluid motion, he unzipped it, the fabric cascading around your feet like a waterfall of silk, leaving you adorned in the delicate black lace set.
His gaze roved over your exposed form, this time shameless, he traced the intricate patterns of lace that barely concealed your curves with his hands. A hunger stirred in his eyes as he reached for the Versace jacket, its luxurious fabric now draped on the bed.
With a deliberate motion, he wrapped it around your shoulders, the embroidery on the leather a stark against the softness of your skin. The sight seemed to soothe something primal within him, a possessive satisfaction settling.
"I want to see my name on you," he murmured, his voice a low, possessive growl.
Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the table in the living room. He set you down gently, his hands firm on your hips as he spread your legs, positioning you exactly how he wanted.
Lewis knelt between your thighs; his breath hot against your most intimate place. His fingers traced the edge of your lace panties before he hooked them aside, exposing you completely.
He didn't dive in immediately, though. Instead, he hovered close, his breath warm and teasing against your core, his lips leaving kisses close enough to your outer lips but still no where you needed him.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice a growl. "You," you breathed, already aching for more.
"Say it again," he commanded, his lips brushing your folds with each word, the featherlight contact driving you wild. "To you, Lewis."
Satisfied, he leaned in, his tongue finally making contact. The first touch was almost too much, a jolt of pleasure that made you gasp. He worked you with expert precision, his tongue and lips coaxing every moan and whimper from your mouth.
But he didn't give you everything all at once. He built you up slowly, teasingly, driving you to the edge and pulling back just enough to make you beg for more.
"Please, Lewis," you whimpered, your hands gripping the edge of the table. "I need you"
"That's better," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin before he resumed, this time with more intensity. He lapped at your whole, eventually licking all the way to your swollen clit.
His fingers joining the motions at some point, stroking and curling inside you just like only he knew how. The sensation overwhelming, your body arching towards him instinctively.
He intensified his movements. His possessiveness was tangible, his need to remind you who you belonged to clear in every movement. You could feel the tension building, the knot in your abdomen ready to snap.
"Who's making you feel like this?" he demanded between strokes, his voice a growl against your sensitive flesh.
"You" you gasped; your mind hazy with pleasure. "Only you."
Your first orgasm washed over you, your cries filling the room as you came undone under his relentless attention. His grip tightened, and he continued his assault, determined to drag every last bit of pleasure from you until you were panting.
When he finally stood up his face was a mixture of satisfaction and raw desire. He leaned over you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the pornographic image making your head spin.
"We can fuck if you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper, "like you fucked that guy once. But I'm the one, the only one, who can make love to you."
His words made your eyes snap open, the sincerity in his eyes akin to when he first told you he loved you, years ago. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then make love to me, Lewis Hamilton" you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He wasted no time, guiding you to the sofa and shedding his clothes with swift moves, never once taking his gaze off of you.
He positioned himself at your entrance as you lied on your back, his fingers adjusting your lingerie to the side, his eyes locked on yours as he pushed inside, slowing dragging his length on your walls, filling you completely. The sensation always sure to get you overwhelmed.
He started slow, but once he picked up speed he moved with a deliberate intensity, each thrust deep and controlled. His hands roamed your body, caressing and gripping, leaving no doubt that you were his.
The pace quickened more, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you neared the edge once again, the signs clear as your focus faded and your nails dug deeper into his biceps. "You feel so good," he encouraged you, his lips brushing your ear. "So perfect. Mine."
"Only yours." you moaned, your nails digging into his back.
He smiled against your skin, satisfied smile, and thrust deeper, his pace becoming almost punishing. But you loved it, loved the way he claimed you so completely.
Your second orgasm was intense, more so than the other, your body shaking with the force of it, legs turning to jelly for a few moments. But Lewis didn't stop.
Suddenly he pulled out and you let out a whimper at the loss. He pulled you to his laps, his eyes dark as he sat on the sofa and positioned you over him.
"I want to see you ride me," he said, his voice rough. "Show me how much you want it."
You straddled him, your hands resting on his chest as you lowered yourself onto him. And even though you were already stretched, riding him was always almost too much. You moved slowly at first, panting at how every inch felt raw but also savoring the way he filled you, the way his hands gripped your hips, soothing your skin.
"That's it," he murmured when you bottomed him, his eyes locked on yours. "You look so beautiful. So perfect."
You picked up your pace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you rode him. His hands moved to your lace covered breasts, squeezing and caressing as he saw you bouncing on his dick still clad in his jacket. You leaned forward, your lips capturing his in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing together as his thrusts matched your movements.
Lewis's grip tightened to move you up and he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your knees. He entered you from behind, his thrusts deep and powerful. You could feel the cool silk of the jacket against your skin, the sensation heightened by the heat of his body.
"That's right," he growled, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding as he hit your cervix and watched your back with his name on it. "You're mine."
The third orgasm hit you then, the hardest one yet, your mind shutting down with the force of it, your body still going trying to drag the last bits of the ecstasy.
Lewis also didn't stop. He continued to move, his pace relentless, until he reached his own climax, his body shuddering with pleasure, his groans loud in your ear as he leaned forward into your body to fill you up, the aftershocks making him thrust even deeper.
As you lay there, spent, entwined, and a bit sweety in the leather material, Lewis kissed you tenderly, his fingers brushing the hair that clung to your face. "I’m yours, only yours." he whispered, the words a vow and a promise.
"And I’m yours" you replied, your voice soft but resolute.
______________________________________________________________
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Last Goodbye | LH44
summary: reader is involved in a car accident during qualifying. can Lewis make it to her on time to say one last goodbye
a/n: lol, the summary is way more dramatic than it needs to be. I'm trying a different pov. Let me know what you think. Requests are open.
The sun was positioned high in the sky, the wind softly tickled the trees and there wasn't a single cloud in view for miles. The perfect Saturday afternoon to hold the Qualification Races for the British Grand Prix which would take place on Sunday. Lewis had left earlier that day just like the other racers in order to get to the track on time and begin preparing with their teams. Due to her work, Y/n was unable to attend most races on the calendar but she wouldn't miss the Silverstone race for anything in the world. It was their home race, the one time she got to spend the whole weekend with Lewis and their family while he worked. As scary as it was for her, she loved watching her favourite person do what he did best and inspire millions while he did it.
As was their tradition for home race weekends, Lewis had left Y/n her favourite breakfast in the kitchen, a handwritten note on a counter and a soft kiss on her forehead while she slept then quietly snuck out with Roscoe under his arm. She would have offered to bring their son with her later in the day but she knew that Roscoe had eager fans in the engineers' garage that were waiting to spend the day with him. So she got up and went about her morning on her own, tidying up and making snacks for later when Lewis came home knackered and starving.
She picked up her bag, patted herself down for keys then checked her phone for any last minute requests from her boyfriend. Seeing nothing new since the previous texts she sent, she figured he may have already started racing so she took a quick selfie and sent it with a caption. "I think I stand a chance of overshadowing your paddock outfit today, lol. I'm leaving the house, see you soon. Knock 'em dead, love" She giggled at her awful sense of humour before leaving the house and locking up.
The drive to the track was usually short but on such an eventful day, there were many cars on the road and one could feel the buzz of excitement and anticipation in the air. Y/n wasn't an anxious driver but seeing people pull risky moves between the lanes made her drive with a foot hovering above her brakes just in case.
○○○○
"Okay, Lewis, P2 for Q1 was a great start. Let's keep that up and improve if we can. Q2 starts in 10 minutes, yeah?" Fred clapped Lewis' shoulder and walked off to another part of the garage.
"Yeah, thanks, man." Lewis replied as he stood in the red garage looking at the screen replaying his latest performance on the track. Roscoe pawed at his foot and whined, clearly requesting to be picked up. The bulldog seemed to forget that at his old age he was getting heavier but his father lovingly adhered and brought Roscoe to his chest with a grunt and a kiss to the forehead. "Where's your mum, eh? She's usually the one cuddling you during qualy, huh?"
He looked around the garage to see if his girlfriend had entered while he was distracted. He knew that the drive there wasn't very short but she always arrived before Q2 began so he was slightly confused. "Hey Marc, have you heard from Y/n or my dad?" he asked an engineer as he glanced at his phone. "No, nothing. There is traffic at the entrance though so that may be causing their delayed arrival." the Italian responded. Lewis nodded seeming satisfied as he read Y/n's text confirming that she was on her way. He grinned like a love struck fool at the picture she sent of herself decked out from head to toe in Ferrari merchandise. She was truly the most beautiful being he had ever seen and he wondered for umpteenth time how he had lived before he met her. He sent heart emojis in response and went back to watching the recording on the screens.
○○○○
Y/n sighed in relief as she reached the last intersection before the paddock entrance. She could see gates from here and couldn't wait to get out of her car and see her son and boyfriend. The red light she had stopped at turned green and she let her foot off the break to move forward. As she was about to cross the middle of the intersection, she noticed the cars behind her screech to a sudden holt but before she could access the confusing situation her car was hit from the side and she was sent jolting forward. The last thing in her vision was the airbag exploding into her face. She was unconscious by the time the horrified bystanders saw her car get thrust into the nearest pole by the driver who ran the red.
○○○○
Lewis was seated in the red and yellow car and about to put on his helmet when he saw marshals, guests and staff hurrying in the direction of the paddock entrance. Focused on the next part of the race, he tried to stay grounded and drown out the sounds of shouting. "Lucas, radio check." he said to his engineer. "It's Lewis, radio check." Silence on the other end. He could now hear the sound of sirens in the air. "Lucas? Can-"
"Loud and clear, Lewis. Apologies for the delay, we were receiving a call from the stewards that there has been a car accident outside the entrance so there will be distractions during the second session."
Lewis grimaced and secured the position of his helmet on his head. Car accidents were awful to witness so he really felt sorry for those who were involved. He took hold of the steering wheel.
"That's awful. Do we know who it is? Has help arrived?" He asked sincerely.
"Uh, not really. They say it's a blue and red Audi and a black-"
"A what?" Lewis felt his blood run cold and his suit get tight. He didn't think he heard right. He couldn't have heard that right.
"A blue and red Audi. Anyways, let's focus on the ra-" Lewis didn't let Lucas finish because he shot up and scrambled to get out of the car he was strapped into. He fell out, landed on all fours but got up to rip off his helmet. His knees stung and there were shouts all around him but he had no time to listen. His skin was hot, his throat was tight and DAMN IT, WHY WOULDN'T HIS GLOVES COME OFF! Frustrated, he took off in a sprint towards the paddock entrance, shoving everybody out of his way. In the back of his foggy mind, he thought he heard barking right behind him but was too distracted to check.
When he finally made it off the racetrack property, he was buzzing with adrenaline, covered in sweat and coughing from screaming at the crowd to let him through. At the end of the driveway he could see two green ambulances and multiple police cars parked in a taped off area. "Oh, God. Oh God, no."
He only knew one person with a red and blue Audi. A red and blue Audi that he had gifted them. One person who hadn't yet arrived to the Ferrari garage.
He stumbled forward to take in the scene illuminated by flashing lights. But before he could mumble out another plea to God, he stopped dead in his tracks. A black body bag. Beside what was left of the blue and red Audi that belonged to his girlfriend.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
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Fortune Favors the Ambitious (1/?) - Second Driver
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!driver!reader
summary: your first step into the F1 world: becoming the second driver for Mercedes. This is the part 1 of a female racer’s story, encompassing her victories, failures, pain, weaknesses, and love.
word count: 6k
warning: mentions of brocedes, mentions of sexism, descriptions of crash scenes, screw with some race results
note: this is my very first try of a series story, suggestions are appreciated! This fanfic contains a lot of roasts about drivers, cars and the sport itself, if it offends you, I apologize.
You joined Mercedes AMG in your first year to step into the seat unexpectedly vacated by Nico Rosberg, who had just staged a feud with Lewis Hamilton. After four years of intense and ruthless competition, Rosberg finally won his first and only WDC this year. Then he chose to retire and took a seat in the media box.
This passionate friendship story between a pair of childhood friends and prodigies did not end well in the end. Instead, it became another dismal footnote to F1’s primeval law: there are no true friends in the paddock, vividly proving that the best way for two drivers to remain good friends is to stay away from each other, to not become teammates.
After races, drivers from different teams could still complain to each other, saying things like “my poor understeercar” and “oh, don’t even mention it, my team took 13.4 seconds to pit”; They could console each other, saying, “Hey, it was tough for everyone, but I felt like if…, you would definitely make it to the podium, bro”, “Of course you would too, I knew you were awesome”and so on. Comforting each other with this kind of contradictory exchange, satisfyingly smoothing over any discomfort caused by competition, forgetting moments like “he almost hit me and caused me DNF” and reassuring themselves with “there’s a difference between on and off the track, it wasn’t his fault, I would have done the same thing”.
It was indeed hard to accept when two drivers, despite having the same performance cars and theoretically receiving equal support, one of them was harshly differentiated, forced to do the dirty work, give positions to their teammates, only to be simply comforted with phrases like “Oh, we treated them fairly, it was just that one performed a bit better”, “Drivers needed to establish team spirit and help each other”.
What? Why did it always seem like one was helping the other?
F1 was not essentially a team sport. 20 drivers competed for one championship.
However, it was really a team sport. A team of thousands of people surrounded the two drivers in the team to serve, not out of charity, but for real returns like money and impression. Therefore, it was inevitable that the team was eager to maximize the group’s interests. The necessary sacrifice spirit for the team and the endless selfish desire of the individual to win formed an eternal contradiction in the paddock.
This blunt competitive pressure, the often unfair team environment, and the resulting jealousy, anxiety, and uneasiness could make even a saint sitting in a cockpit at temperatures reaching 70 degrees explode mentally, hurtling at over 320 kilometers per hour towards their teammate's wheels, sidepods, or any other position. And then being retaliated against with the same hatred by the other party.
As the curtain fell on the drama, no matter what, Mercedes had to find a new recruit.
The opportunity to enter F1 is by no means easily within reach.
You were the lucky one. Not only were you naturally talented, but you also came from a rich family who could support your move to the UK for karting training. You had parents who unconditionally helped you chase your dreams, and in lower-level racing, you had hardly faced any financial difficulties. It was well known that kids from the slums could gather to play football made by newspapers, but the road for a racing driver was paved with gold. Thanks to your parents’ connections, the process of finding sponsorship for higher-level racing surprisingly went smoothly: half of the interested sponsors backed out the moment they saw you were a woman, while the other half chose to take a gamble.
You’re unlucky. Being female is your natural disadvantage in this male-dominated sport. When you started to shine in GP3 races, you felt deeply powerless knowing that as a woman, you had to do better than boys just to get the same opportunities — boys only need to showcase talent and skills to be considered by higher-level teams, while you get questioned about “whether emotions will affect your stability” and “will your period affect your performance”. It's absurd. You even couldn’t possibly get the same chances as boys in big team future programs. Let alone testing in old model F1 cars, you had very few opportunities to even test on F1 simulators. You chose to grab the lifeline thrown by Marussia and become their reserve driver.
From blockbuster rookie to seasoned driver, you dominated GP2 for two years. You and the boys used the same engine and the same frame,You didn’t have a driver dad, so there is no F1 team engineers to adjust the car for you. you relied solely on your talent and determination. You won 9 races, stood on the podium more than ten times, and became the champion with the highest points in the history of GP2.
A brilliant result that forced F1 teams to seriously consider their driver lineup.
“Who will fill the empty the seat at Mercedes?”
“Why Y/N Y/LN is the next big name?”
“Is she the first female F1 driver of 21 century?”
Indeed, why not? Why not have given a deserving female driver, who had already proven her mettle, a chance to shine on the world stage? Offer her a one-year contract — allow her to break barriers and challenge norms in a traditionally male-dominated sport. With her presence alone, she brought invaluable media exposure to the team, each stride she took destined to be immortalized in the annals of history alongside the illustrious name of her team.
After testing in simulator, you sat in front of Toto Wolff and several executives. Only you knew that there are six or seven GP2 drivers vying for this seat, not to mention F1 drivers who want to drive the Silver Arrows.
“If your teammate — I’m not specifically referring to Lewis Hamilton, this is just a hypothetical scenario — if your teammate, he is in the state of competing for the championship, and due to some accidents in a key game, he unfortunately falls behind you and another rival from another team, what would you do?” Toto asked, his gaze seeming to pierce through the soul.
You remained unexpectedly calm. Without hesitation, you answered, “I’ll push the first-place car away, allowing Hamilton, who’s in third, to directly take the lead and win the championship.”
After the interview, during the debrief with your team manager, she sighed at your answer. “You should have played it safe,” she said, “You should have said something conventional. Talk about helping him defend, giving him room, and if necessary, try to fight for the title yourself. That’s the standard answer. Don’t let them perceive your aggression and ambition.”
You remained noncommittal.
You knew Mercedes just want a driver for Lewis Hamilton who won’t tear the team relationship and the car to pieces.
But if winning hadn’t been your ultimate goal, you wouldn‘t have chosen the path of racing. You should go get an MBA to help with the family business, and from then on, your biggest connection to racing will be attending hometown races as a sponsor.
And the word “ambitious” described you perfectly. You certainly had an insatiable, oversized desire. In a paddock where victory had long been claimed by men, you boldly stepped forward to stake your claim, ready to seize what was once exclusively theirs and make it your own.
You might always remembered that cold autumn day in London.
The basement was filled with dry warm air and the smell of sweat, each breath feeling like burning hot coals in your lungs. Your sweat melded with the rough wooden floorboards. Your breath echoed in the empty room, accompanied by the dull thud of dumbbells hitting the ground, like a lonely symphony.
The phone rang just as you stepped onto ground.
You stared at the blinking name of your agent on the screen, your heartbeat quickening, your fingers trembling slightly. What would this call bring? Fifty-fifty, your confidence and self-doubt intertwined: you were the best young driver of your generation, bar none—if you didn’t get the seat, no one would. Yet, reality also coldly reminded you that perhaps no team would be willing to take a chance on a female driver, right?
You answered the phone, your agent's voice urgent on the other end, like a mother scolding a child who had caused worry: “Y/N, you finally picked up! I've called you twenty times! I thought something happened to you!”
“Sorry, I just finished training. What’s going on?” You tried to keep your voice calm, but inside, it felt like countless hands were squeezing you, making it almost impossible to breathe. Countless possibilities flashed through your mind, and you were even afraid to know the outcome, fearing it would shatter your hopes. If you missed the next season, you didn’t know if you’d ever have such a good opportunity again.
She took a deep breath, the one-second pause feeling like an eternity to you.
Thankfully, her voice regained excitement.
“Y/N, you’re driving in F1 next season.”
Despite the chaotic emotions swirling within, your voice was much calmer than expected. “So, which team decided to take the risk?” Just a week ago, you had met with Williams team, who had a precedent of accepting women as reserve drivers. You had tried so hard to control the slight trembling of your fingers due to nerves and sound nonchalant. Entering F1 had already been a dream come true, but the thought of driving for the Silver Arrows — waves of excitement surged through your mind, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest.
There was almost an uncontrollable smile in her voice as she responded, as if every word was pulsating with joy. “Mercedes. You’ll be the second driver for the team.” You could almost feel her excitement transmitting through the signal.
Your mind went blank for a moment, your heart racing, as if all the voices in the world had disappeared in that moment. Only that word echoed incessantly in your mind. Mercedes.
“Is this... is this real?” Your voice trembled slightly.
“Of course it is real!” Her laughter held a hint of pride. “Mercedes has already sent a draft contract, we discussed some details, and we could announce it before the awards ceremony.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your emotions. “Thank you, thank you for all your support and help.”
“You deserved this, Y/N. Go celebrate tonight.”
In just two minutes, the rain in London had soaked your hair, droplets sliding down your cheeks, blending with your clothes. But you didn’t feel uneasy about it; instead, you felt a sense of joy blending with nature. You even felt like this ordinary rain was celebrating for you, baptizing you for your mission.
You knew you were ready to face the storms and rainbows of the racing world.
“Mercedes AMG F1team: Y/N Y/LN will line up alongside Lewis Hamilton in 2017”
“There is no doubt about Y/N’s skill and determination. Although F1 is extremely demanding on physical strength, she has proved that she is fully capable of meeting challenges.”
“Can women truly compete with men in extreme sports like F1? I have my doubts. Is this just a gimmick by the teams to attract attention and sponsors? Can she really make results? While gender equality is a noble idea, F1 requires the best drivers, regardless of gender. Is she truly capable, or is she merely a symbolic choice?”
Perhaps your unnormal answer touched the executives, and you had been granted a one-year, highly demanding contract—although they may have been satisfied with your willingness to be a second driver, whether you could be a consistent and unwavering second driver, that was still a cruel, untested new question for the team.
The first winter break as an F1 driver was eventful, even more so than you imagined. You had countless forms to sign, filming videos for promotional content was a daily task, and there were endless meetings with engineers. You met your race engineer — a talented woman full of potential. You couldn’t wait to see how your performance together would unfold in real races. Meanwhile, the media swarmed, eager for exclusive interviews, and even Vogue wanted to feature you on their cover before you had ever sat in the W08.
Your first meeting with your teammate was for simulator testing. You’ve crossed paths with him on various occasions several times — during a race, at FIA awards ceremony — but this marks the first time you met Lewis Hamilton as his teammate.
You shouldn’t have been fixated on this, but you felt Lewis Hamilton had far more charm than any video or picture could capture.
You still remembered the moment he pulled you into a hug. His black eyes shimmered with warmth, and despite his muscular arms, his embrace made you feel comfortable and secure. It was hard not to gaze at the tattoos on his smooth skin as his voice, gentle yet magnetic, with a slight British accent, said, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
“Hello, Lewis. I’m so glad to be your teammate.”
“The honor is mine. Perfect GP2 season, huh? Highest-scoring champion.”
For some reason, you were glad he noticed your achievements — not as a female driver, but as a driver. Not with labels like the first female F1 driver of the 21st century.
“Thank you, Lewis.” You tried to remain as calm as possible, masking the subtle excitement within.
Lewis lightly patted your shoulder. “We’ll do a mega job together this season.”
You nodded. “We will, I’ll give it my all.”
You didn’t disappoint anyone.
On March 26th, your first race in your F1 career took place in Melbourne, Australia, and you smoothly made it onto the podium, not at all like a rookie. In the following four races, you secured three second places, making people to cry out about how damn fast the W08 was. Some even said that even the rocket car would seem reserved compared to a car could turn a rookie into a podium driver like that.
Of course, the fans who watched the race didn’t attribute your performance solely to the car’s speed.
You had abandoned your aggressive driving style, making your car flow smoothly like water along perfect lines, calmly following Lewis Hamilton. Anyone attempting to overtake you found themselves ensnared in your relentless defense.
Whether it was starts, tire saving, or long runs — things rookies often struggled with — you performed exceptionally well. Your only technical weakness seemed to be overtaking, but this flaw was completely offset by the W08’s superior performance. And to the team, being bad at overtaking was an advantage. After all, the only car usually ahead of you was Lewis’s. Why bother being good at overtaking?
Mercedes could only rejoice at your precise and forceful defense and your unwavering support in driving and escorting.
Lewis’s viewpoint evolved over time. At first, he might have entertained thoughts like “two more races and she will demand more chances”, but as he witnessed your performance on the track, his sentiment transformed to “damn, she’s really something special”. It was a gradual realization, punctuated by moments like when you quietly secured yet another victory for him.
Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Lewis finally broached the subject in cooling room. “You had fresher tires. Why didn’t you ever try to overtake me?”
“My contract states that without team orders, I can’t overtake you.” You couldn’t help but notice the slight embarrassment in Lewis’s expression.
“Besides,” you continued, offering a smile, “I’m not that good at overtaking anyway.”
Your first victory came in the first GP after the summer break, at your home race. With such an outstanding and eye-catching local rookie driver, it was undoubtedly the biggest event of the year for fans.
The stands were packed, every corner filled with enthusiastic supporters waving flags, cheering, and shouting encouragement for you. It was more than just a race; it was a celebration, with the entire city immersed in joy and pride.
Your path to victory, however, was full of surprises.
Initially, Mercedes executed back-to-back pitstop strategy perfectly. Kimi's second pitstop should have put him between you and Lewis or right behind you, where you could block him. But the Mercedes pit crew had an unusual difficulty; they struggled with the left front tyre, leaving Lewis in the pits for a staggering 11.4 seconds. By then, his chance for the win had disappeared. He dropped to 7th place and took 13 laps to fight back to fourth, eventually getting stuck battling Sebastian for third.
Meanwhile, you and Kimi were locked in a wheel-to-wheel duel for a full five minutes.
Since you entered the pits right after Kimi, you were behind him when you came out. Your tires were in exactly the same condition. Even though theoretically this year Mercedes’car had more advantages, you were not good at overtaking, and you were stuck in a stalemate despite your best efforts.
At this moment, your race engineer on the radio confirmed that Lewis had no chance of winning and encouraged you to push for the win.
You bit your lower lip as you looked at Kimi ahead of you.
For the first time all season, a burning emotion surfaced clearly and definitively in your mind: you felt you could do it. Not with your usual rational judgment, but with an adrenaline-fueled belief. You could prove that you were not just a reliable team driver but one of the best in the sport. This time, you were destined to stand on the top podium and become a champion.
Your fierce competition elicited constant gasps from commentators and audiences.
“Y/LN is now the sharpest blade of the Silver Arrows — just two laps to go! Turn 2!
Räikkönen cuts inside perfectly! It’s useless! Y/LN remains calm, anticipating as if living in his mind!”
You knew your home track inside out —Turns 1 to 3 is a combination of gradually tightening corners, and Turn 15 at the end of the back straight connected the highest speed on the circuit to the slowest turn — ideal for overtaking.
Your head ached as if a blood vessel might burst, but your mind was excited. You tried to breathe calmly, reporting speed, tire condition, balance to the team with a steady voice. On the final straight, you and Kimi both opened the DRS, crossing the line under the checkered flag.
The next thing you remembered was the fireworks whistling through the sky. Lewis pulled you out of the car, hugging you excitedly, jumping up and down with congratulations — finish line footage and speed checks had confirmed you won, just 0.05 seconds.
The crowd erupted, celebrating the first home championship in history. You sat on top your car, waving to the fans and staffs.
Waiting, stepping onto the podium, spraying champagne.….. Kimi and Lewis both aimed their first sprays at your face. You closed your eyes, letting the champagne flow down your cheeks as if they were your own tears. The crowd’s celebration roared through the night, with every face radiating pride and excitement because of you. Your rookie season, your home race, your first victory. It felt like no moment could ever be more perfect.
“Y/N Y/LN to Make Herstory as First F1 Female Race Winner”
“From Rookie to Champion: Y/N Y/LN’s Epic Battle with Kimi Räikkönen for Victory”
“Yes, it’s been a rollercoaster ride. We made mistakes but did a great job of fixing them and finished with 1-3 podium.
The duel with Kimi was intense; I have to give him credit for pushing me to my limits.
I want to thank the fans who came out today and those who sat in front of their TVs to support me. Winning in home means a lot to me.
No, I won’t overemphasize the meaning of this winning. It’s just one of many in my F1 career. Soon, everyone will get used to a female driver winning races. I believe that.”
Your performance gradually stabilized in the following races. Even if you didn't become a race winner again, you consistently finished in the points. While your peers were still vying to be the team’s core, you miraculously silenced the haters by winning third place in the WDC, earning a three-year, higher-paying contract with Mercedes.
In such a friendly atmosphere, it was hard for your relationship with Lewis not to warm up.
On the track, he would wholeheartedly defend you when he was behind, and off the track, he acted as your mentor, helping you get rid of the bad mood caused by self-doubt. He always skillfully handled awkward questions from journalists for you and knew the best restaurants in every race city.
After you declined Lewis’s invitation to go skydiving during the winter break, he invited you to his home. There, you met his family, who gave you warm hugs just like his. His nephew brought out a bunch of your merch for you to autograph, saying he supported you in every race.
In the 2018 season, although Mercedes maintained a dominant position, they encountered formidable competition from other teams, most notably Ferrari. This rivalry intensified throughout the season, reaching a climax at the German Grand Prix, where fans were treated to a spectacular and dramatic spectacle.
Mercedes’ race strategy was essentially centered around you — Lewis’s car had a mechanical failure in qualifying, starting from 14th in Hockenheimring.
Even though the W09 was fast enough, starting from the back made it easy to get caught in traffic jams. Lewis needed to overtake as many cars as possible before the rain starts, and you needed to push hard to challenge Seb, aiming for the win if possible. At the very least, avoided crashing into the barriers. This increased your pressure, as Mercedes was 20 points behind Ferrari in the Constructors‘ Championship, and today’s points would likely depend mainly on your performance.
Started in the front, you found yourself locked in a tense battle with Sebastian’s Ferrari, the red car a formidable obstacle in your quest for victory. Today Ferrari was incredibly fast on Seb's home track.
In between two prancing horse, you feel quite passive, all you could do was patiently wait for their mistakes. The good news was that Lewis was climbing up, and there were soon two Mercedes among the front runners.
The sky started to rain, making the track slippery and driving more difficult, leading to a flurry of activity in the pit lane as teams scrambled to switch to wet tires. You weren’t particularly good in the rain, now was also not a good pit stop window for you. So you had to move the brake bias during the race to deal with the tricky conditions, keeping your W09 on the race line.
“I got a bit of a tankslapper on, but I managed to get it back.” The race was a bit challenging for your soft tyre.
“Good job, Y/N.”
However, when the rain got worse and more widespread, Seb lost control at Turn 11 and crashed into the barriers — the turning point. The safety car was deployed.
The team radio crackled to life, the voice of your race engineer guiding you through the chaos. “Y/N, Box, box, box.” you made pit stop for new tires under team orders during the safety car period, while Lewis decided to stay out on track at the last moment.
What a genius decision. During the 20 seconds the pit crew was searching for the tires, your only thought was being glad that Lewis didn’t came into the pits, with a mix of sadness and relief. Otherwise, a double podium would have turned into a double disaster.
Thankfully Kimi pitted on the following lap. Amidst the chaos of the race, there was a dramatic and rapid reversal of fortune. As the rain shower began, what initially looked like a dominant 1-2 finish for Ferrari was swiftly transformed into a commanding 1-2 lead for Mercedes.
“Now Lewis Hamilton is back in his faithful P1, Y/N Y/LN has exited the pit. Let’s see if she will challenge her teammate with those fresh tires—”
“What position am I?”
“P2, Lewis is ahead, Kimi is behind.”
“Copy. Tell Lewis I am backing Kimi; he can pull out the gap.”
In the post-race media pen, it was no surprise that Natalie Pinkham asked you about not attacking Hamilton in the final stages of the race.
“Y/N, congrats on your P2,” she began, “today’s race was very exciting, especially your performance in the rain. But I have a straightforward question—why didn’t you try to attack Hamilton in the last stint? Your tires were much fresher, and you could have won the race. From aiming for the win to defending for Hamilton, do you feel any disappointment?”
“Thank you for asking what every fan wants to know,” the surrounding journalists chuckled in unison. “Firstly, I’d like to say all decisions were in the best interest of the team.”
You paused for a moment and continued, “The track was still very slippery at that time, and I think under those conditions, only Ferrari fans would want to see me attacking Lewis.”
You emphasized, “I didn’t want to risk the team’s success for my personal victory. We were 20 points behind Ferrari before the race; now we’re leading by 23 points. That’s the best outcome.”
Before interviewing the next driver, Natalie turned off the microphone and gave you a hug. “Y/N, you did great. You are too good to be a second driver.”
Even Lewis came to talk to you after the race.
Mercedes rented an entire club to celebrate the 1-2 finish. You could enjoy free from the worry of tomorrow’s potential gossip about your dance partners. It was a relatively relaxed atmosphere until Lewis approached you.
You repeatedly assured him that his win was his own achievement — P14 to P1, mega job. Even if you hadn’t defended Kimi in the last few laps, he would have won because Seb had already retired. No matter how stupid Ferrari might be, they wouldn’t risk a double DNFs.
Lewis might not have been so careful in the past, but perhaps the constant arguments with Rosberg and the millions of euros in car damage over the past few years have taught him something.
A common misconception people had was, with the team’s favoritism, good cars, and a second driver assisting, even a dog could win WDC with such treatment. The flaw in this logic was, why would a team favor a backmarker?
A driver’s success was not solely based on team strategy or car performance. While these elements were crucial, the driver’s skill, determination, and ability to execute under pressure are what truly made the difference.
While theoretically any racer driving a Silver Arrows rocket had a chance at the title, but Mercedes didn’t pour over 400 million euros into the F1 team each year to nurture rookie drivers. Champion drivers didn't win because of good treatment; they earned the best treatment by first becoming champions. Lewis performed exceptionally well, so the team rallied around him.
Of course you understood it.
You had so much to improve, you had to wait patiently, knowing that opportunities might be scarce for a long time. You needed the most resilient determination, the keenest judgment and insight — neither slipping into inertia and fatigue due to the former, nor becoming anxious and impatient due to the latter. Like a leopard in hiding, you had to wait for the right moment to strike, with the sharpest claws and the fiercest gaze.
After the German Grand Prix, the chatter among fans about Mercedes’ unshakable dominance and the remarkably close bond between you and Lewis became the talk of the internet. The media eagerly fueled the flames, dubbing you both the paddock’s “power couple”while some fans affectionately joked that you were Lewis’s housewife on the track, who helped him clean up opponents on the track. It was certainly preferable to the spiteful remarks from haters who accused you of being nothing more than Lewis’s doormat.
As you shared the amusing sarcastic comments from fans at Lewis’s home in Monaco, your “son” Roscoe circled your feet, while your “husband” was casually dressed with his hair down, making fresh juice, trying to persuade you to move to Monte-Carlo.
“My husband definitely wouldn't be your type.”
Lewis paused his work, ready to hear your grand declaration. “I need a trophy husband — beautiful, hot, who loves me wholeheartedly but isn’t too needy. The season is long, and I'm very busy. But when I need him, he has to show up at the paddock immediately, so he can’t have a job or be in school.”
A hearty laugh escaped Lewis’s lips, “When I retire, I might meet those standards.”
“No way, I’m not letting you retire. I’m a knight defending your WDC titles.”
He was nearly crying with laughter, “So, I’m Princess Lewis now?”
You thought Roscoe barked in agreement.
Obviously even the most seemingly perfect couples have their arguments.
As the red lights went out, Lewis Hamilton, fueled by his desire to win and yesterday’s pole position, launched into the lead, dominating the track.
Starting from 4th, you made a smooth start and stealthily slid into third, effectively sandwiching Max Verstappen between the two Mercedes.
The Australian Grand Prix was nothing short of spectacular. In the final three laps, Max relying on Red Bull’s brilliant strategy decisions, continued to close the gap to Lewis. No one could tell if he would overtake at the last moment.
“Hamilton is still leading, but the tire wear is too fast. If nothing changed, he might be caught in the last lap and a half.”
Mercedes’ strategy team was in overdrive, their headsets buzzing with a cacophony of contrasting tones.
On one side, Lewis was calmly asking, “How many seconds is Max behind me?” On the other, you were rambled concerns, “These tyres are dead at the rear, and please give me Max’s speed—”
Alternating between the two drivers, it was enough to make the engineers’ brains, which had been operating at high speed for over an hour, overheat and crash.
Bono was heavily reporting to Lewis about the worsen tire conditions, preparing him mentally to be overtaken, while on your end, you received information about the lap times of Charles Leclerc, who was closely chasing behind. You were also comforted with an assurance that you should hold on and most likely secure third place.
You didn’t understand: “Hey girl, I didn’t ask about Leclerc.”
Then, he must be fourth. With three laps to go, was the team giving up on the champion? You felt this wasn’t right.
“Please tell me Max and Lewis’ lap times,” you calmly inquired again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, you won’t overtake Verstappen, the tires—”
“Lap time.” you forcefully interrupted. Because with the tires heavily worn, it was unlikely for you to overtake Verstappen and take second place, but causing trouble for him and allowing Lewis to get to first place was a different story.
Let’s hope you wouldn’t fly off the track.
But the racetrack wasn't exactly God's territory, as most drivers' prayers rarely got answered. So, the worst-case scenario happened.
In the second-to-last lap, you were side by side with Verstappen in Turn 4, and two seconds later of wheel-to-wheel competition, your left rear tire finally couldn't hold on, causing the car to lose balance and fly off the track at over 300km/h, dragging the Red Bull alongside it.
Charles Leclerc, miraculously jumping from fourth to second, was startled, sliding on the track and looking in disbelief at the disappearing Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, reporting in shock over the radio, “They'’re both out! Are they okay?”
“Plan B, Plan B!” The engineer screamed frantically, signaling Leclerc to focus and cross the finish line. Suddenly aware of his miraculous rise to second place, Monegasque sweetheart quickly stepped on the pedal, preventing Magnussen from overtaking him from behind.
In the grandstands, team pits, and commentator boxes, screams of excitement erupted uncontrollably. But amidst the sand and stones where Max and your cars had sunk, you felt like even the air was quiet, as if the thundering engine sounds couldn't penetrate the helmets and cockpits.
Your only thought was that you had indeed fulfilled the promise you made in the interview, to push Lewis’s competitor out.
Lewis celebrated for five minutes before realizing what had happened behind him. Then, the joy of victory disappeared completely.
He remained silent, his expression turning cold, after confirming that the podium ceremony wouldn’t start for some time, he returned to the garage.
You slouched on the couch, a soft pillow under your head, but you still couldn’t control the dizziness, nausea, and urge to vomit. Fortunately, you could still count fingers and remember everything, so it was probably just a mild concussion.
You felt a little sad. Maybe this was where you differed from male drivers. You couldn’t train the most aesthetically pleasing thick necks admired in the paddock, so your ability to resist g forces was weaker that you got a concussion with just a slight bump.
You raised your head and saw Lewis’ stormy expression. His anger was evident, with a cold face and tightly pursed lips.
“Listen, Y/N, I don’t need you to do this, I can—”
“Please give us a few minutes alone, please,”you looked at the staff in the room, and they tactfully left, leaving the room quiet again.
He continued to shout at you loudly, “I can win on my own, and if I can’t win, it’s my own damn fault. I don’t want to use these methods, and I don’t t care about your f*cking second driver contract—”
You looked quietly at his excited face, patiently listening to his volcanic eruption. When he finally stopped, you extended a hand to signal that you also wanted to say something.
He crouched in front of you, you wanted to touch his shoulder, but your hand trembled and ended up on his neck. Well, damn. You were too weak to resist.
So you gently touched Lewis’ neck and jaw, softly saying like petting Roscoe, “I swear to you, Lewis, this was really an accident. I didn’t mean to crash, just wanted to buy some time... but the tire still blew. You know, these things happen all the time, it’s just this time... it’s a bit dramatic.”
You could see Lewis was uncomfortable with your hand. After a few seconds, he also apologized in your gentle touch, “Hey, you make me feel guilty. I probably couldn’t win anyway, which is annoying —but I can win next time. I don’t want you to get a concussion just because I want to win.”
“So are we good?” you tried to force a smile,
“Only you promise me you won’t do anything dangerous next time.”
You nodded, locking eyes with him.
“Pinky promise?”
You raised your trembling hand, a physiological reaction from your brain losing control. But soon Lewis’ hand came over, giving your hand something to lean on, so it stopped shaking.
Contracts written in black and white often protect the cost of betrayal, while Ineffective childish promises always encourage true feelings and trust. You stared quietly at each other for a moment, then Lewis held your hand and gently kissed it.
His voice was a little hoarse, “Just trust me a little more, okay?”
#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine
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Mehr's Birthday Playlist✩₊˚.⋆🍸⋆⁺₊✧ 8th June- 14th June
I'M TURNING 20!!!!!! I BEAT TEENAGE PREGNANCY!!!
⋆.˚ Since its my birthday in 2 weeks, I'm going to be uploading 7 fics for 7 days leading upto my birthday ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
⋆.˚ And also I'll be hosting blurb night every night for those 7 days ༘⋆₊ ⊹★ ⭑⋆｡˚
⋆.˚ So please don't shy away from sending requests for blurbs for blurb night ✮⋆˙
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆-
⋆.˚ Fic upload schedule ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ
♬ track 001 (Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader smut)
♬ track 002 (Jealous!Gavi x Fem!Reader angst -> smut)
♬ track 003 (Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader fluff)
♬ track 004 (Dominik Szoboszlai x Fem!Reader angst -> smut)
♬ track 005 (Pedri x Fem!Reader best friends to lovers)
♬ track 006 (Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader fluff + smut)
♬ track 007 (Lando Norris x Fem!reader smut)
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။l၊|• 0:10
#mehrs digital diary ‧₊˚🖇️✩#mehrs birthday celly ☾⋆｡🪽 °✩#mehrs celly ✮ ⋆ ˚｡🎞️ ⋆｡°✩#mehrs works ✮ ⋆ ˚｡🪩 ⋆｡°✩#lewis hamilton x reader#pablo gavi x reader#charles leclerc x reader#dominik szoboszlai x reader#pedri x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#football fanfic#lando norris#gavi x reader#dominik szoboszlai imagine#charles leclerc x you#carlos sainz x you#pedri x you#lewis hamilton x you#lando x you#pablo gavi#pablo gavi imagine
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𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊!
Part 2 of `` 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ``
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` well isn’t it the conciquences of my own actions! ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ After heartbreak, Y/N decides she’s done with rich men in Formula One. Well, that’s what she thought at first. Besides, what better way to get back at your ex that does competitive sports than to get with his main rival?
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader, Ex!Max Verstappen x Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ Mentions of Jos and some slut shaming (not saying directly)
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ oh how i love this sorta trope. Will be working on one more request!
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y/n.l/n ✔︎
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, roscoelovescoco and others
y/n.l/n tante y/n spending time with her favorite nephew while mom and dad are out on date day 🩷 (also met a new friend(s) while on a walk🫣!)
tagged ; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
3,218 comments
charles_leclerc ✔︎ fatherhood is tiring 😞
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ i will gladly take leo off your hands 🤗🤗
→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ no thank you!!
alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest 🩷
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ says you 🥹🫶
→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ am i interrupting something..?
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ yes you are actually
lewishamilton ✔︎ great seeing you!
y/n.l/n you ✔︎ as well! sorry for stopping your run! 😭
lewishamilton ✔︎ no need to worry! it was fun catching up 👊
landonorris ✔︎ “interuppted your run” uh huh… 😏
roscoelovescoco should have brought snacks
username1 LEO LECLERC!! 🗣️ 🔥
→ username2 leo *SAINT-MLEUX leclerc
username3 TANTE Y/N!!
→ username4 she can be my aunt anytime
→ username5 i’m tired of this @ username4.
username6 ROSCOE MENTION
username7 the lewis hamilton tag??? 🤨
→ username8 NO BECAUSE WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THIS??
→ username9 call me delusional but what if lewis and y/n get together 🤭🤭
→ username10 yeah you’re delusional!!
→ username11 i mean… considering they both live in monaco and it’s break right now for f1… i wouldn't be surprised if they start getting friendly
username12 her outfit is so 😍😍
lewishamilton ✔︎
📍 Monaco
liked by kimi.antonelli, tommyhilfiger, irinashayk, and others
lewishamilton fun day out 📸
4,971 comments
username13 lewis serving as usual 🥱
username14 UHM…. SIR LEWIS CARL DAVIDSON HAMILTON… WHO IS THAT WOMAN?
→ username15 based off how she dresses and who he recently met, it has to be y/n no way it’s some other girl.
landonorris ✔︎ a new missus??? 🤔
→ username16 tell us what you know @ landonorris.
→ username17 this is a threat @ landonorris
→ username18 stalk lewis @ landonorris
→ landonorris fucking hell guys let me live i’m as lost as you 😞😞🙏
username19 the y/n and lewis collab was something i did NOT know I needed….
username20 we lost him ladies 😞😞👊
→ username21 lost him??? nah we lost HER
y/n.l/n ✔︎ too fun!
Liked by lewishamilton
→ lewishamilton favorite part was when you fell in the water 🤣
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ we promised to not talk about that…
username22 what do you guys know about y/namilton post y/nstappen breakup??
→ username23 bro thinks lewis hamilton will get with max verstappens ex 💀
y/n.l/n ✔︎
📍 Monte Carlo, Monaco
liked by lewishamilton, rebeccadonalson, maxverstappen1 and others
y/n.l/n rest and relaxation ☕️ 🌞
3,210 comments
username24 my girl knew the assignment
→ username25 and got graded a 8/8 🤭🤭
lewishamilton ✔︎ oh wow 😍
lewishamilton ✔︎ the prettiest girl in the world 💫
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ oh?? 😳
→ username26 UHMM…
→ username27 lewis… i don’t think you know you’re on your main…
→ username28 lewis’s comment isn’t wrong she knew how good she looked 😫
→ username29 PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD???
→ username30 OKAY WE SEE YOU SHOOTING THE SHOTS
HAMMY
→ username31 HAMMY??? 😭😭
username32 the max like???
username33 the way she’s so much more happy now with all the max drama subsiding :(
username34 great now she’s moving on from one driver to another 🙄
→ username35 honestly! i’m suprised no one called her out on that.
→ username36 champion hopper 😂
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lewishamilton ✔︎
liked by y/n.l/n, mercedesamgf1, pierregasly, and others
lewishamilton 🩶
tagged ; y/n.l/n
7,654 comments
y/n.l/n ✔︎ mwah mwah 😽
→ lewishamilton ✔︎ ❤️
→ landonorris ✔︎ yuck.
→ carlosainz55 ✔︎ don’t worry guys lando is just jealous.
→ landonorris ✔︎ jealous??? as if
→ landonorris ✔︎ okay maybe a bit.
username37 IS THIS THE HARD LAUNCH??🫣
username38 I KNEW THEY ALREADY KISSED BUT DAMN
username39 THEY DIDN’T EASE INTO IT 💀
username40 LEWIS AND YN SAID “fuck the soft launch” 😭😭
username41 Rip max verstappen pre-y/n breakup, you would have loved this baddie…
→ username42 @ username41 nah max didn’t fight for their relationship he doesn’t deserve y/n in her hottie era
→ username43 @ username42 YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH!!
username22 WTF DID I SAY @ username23
→ username23 i plead the fifth.
alexandrasaintmleux écoute ici, petite merde. tu lui brises le cœur, Charles et moi serons devant ta porte, les couteaux à la main et prêts à frapper. Elle mérite le monde et tu ferais mieux de le lui donner. ❤️ 🤗
→ username44 alex being such a sweet and supportive friend 🥹🫶
→ username45 DID WE READ THE SAME COMMENT???
→ username46 french speaker here 🙋 i can confirm that alex did infact say how happy she is for y/n and lewis and that she can’t wait for them and y/n and charles to go on double dates!!
→ username46 that is what i would say but she very much said the opposite!!
→ lewishamilton ✔︎ oui oui madame. 🫡
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#☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula one x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#charles leclerc#lando norris#alexandra saint mleux#lily muni he#rebecca donaldson#kika gomes
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Meet Me at the Met
Lewis Hamilton x up-and-coming singer!Reader
Summary: in which you go head over heels (quite literally) during the most important event of the year and end up right at the feet of none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton himself
Warnings: minor injury
The roar of the crowd hits you like a tidal wave as you step onto the iconic themed carpet of the Met Gala. Flashing bulbs from countless cameras nearly blind you as you blink rapidly, trying to adjust. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it thrumming in your throat.
“Over here, honey!” A photographer calls out, gesturing for you to turn towards him. You pivot gracefully, the layers of shimmering tulle from your Maison Margiela gown swirling around you.
“Work it! Look this way, sweetheart!” Another shouts, snapping shot after shot.
You take a steadying breath, channeling every ounce of confidence you can muster. This is your first Met Gala, the biggest night of your fledgling music career so far. One misstep could be disastrous.
Your publicist Samantha appears at your side, perfectly put together as always in a sleek sheath dress. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs with an encouraging smile. “Just keep smiling and be yourself.”
Nodding, you continue gliding down the iconic path, pausing at the designated spots to pose for the ravenous paparazzi. An elegant string of Bulgari emeralds adorns your neck, glittering mesmerizingly under the bright lights.
“Miss! To your left please!”
You turn obediently, the intricate beadwork on your deep blue-green gown catching the flashes. Despite the oppressive late spring humidity, you refuse to let a single drop of sweat show. This night is too important.
After what feels like an eternity, a security guard appears to usher you up the final flight of stairs and into the main event. With a brilliant smile plastered on your face, you make your way carefully up the steps, lifting the delicate train of your dress to keep from tripping.
Suddenly, one sparkly heel catches on the fabric and you’re thrown off balance. Unable to catch yourself, you tumble head over heels back down the stairs, gasping in shock and pain as you land hard on the ground.
There’s a collective intake of breath from the crowd as you blink up at the bright lights, thoroughly stunned. Your vision is blurred and there’s a sharp throbbing in your head. When you try to push yourself up, bolts of agony shoot through your right wrist.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” A deep, accented voice sounds from beside you.
You turn your head and your breath catches in your throat. Crouched beside you in an exquisitely tailored double breasted suit and wool coat is arguably the most handsome man on the planet. His beautiful coffee-colored eyes are filled with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a loose strand of hair from your face.
“I … I think so,” you manage to stammer out, though your pounding head begs to differ. “Just clumsy, I guess.”
Despite the sheepish grin you attempt, a wince of pain crosses your features as you shift positions. Lewis’ brow furrows and he places one large hand on your bare shoulder to keep you still.
“Easy there, love. Don’t try to move just yet,” he soothes in that rich baritone that has melted millions of hearts. “You took quite a nasty fall.”
You nod mutely, unable to tear your widened eyes away from his handsome face. This couldn’t be happening … could it? Did you really just faceplant in front of the entire world and, perhaps more importantly, your celebrity crush?
“S-Sorry,” you whisper, utterly mortified. “I’m usually much more graceful than this, I swear.”
Lewis chuckles warmly and you feel your cheeks flush. “No need to apologize, darling. These things happen to the best of us.”
Nearby, Samantha is frantically trying to wave over security and a medic, her expression pinched with worry. You groan quietly as another stab of pain lances through your skull. Definitely a concussion, if your swimming vision is any indication.
“Let’s get you looked at, yeah?” Lewis murmurs, rising fluidly to his feet.
Before you can protest, he slips one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, cradling you gently against his firm chest. You suck in a shocked breath at the sudden movement, instinctively reaching up to grab onto his shoulders for stability. His Burberry suit is buttery soft under your fingers.
“Whoa … y-you really don’t have to carry me,” you stammer out as he easily lifts your frame.
Those rich brown eyes meet yours with an amused glint. “I insist. Can’t have one of the brightest new voices in music getting any more hurt, can we?”
You bite your lip shyly, unable to hold back a small smile of wonderment. Is this really happening right now?
“I’ll be fine, honestly,” you try again as Lewis maneuvers around the gathered crowd, heading for a discreet exit with Samantha close behind. “Just a little banged up.”
“Your wrist is already swelling, love,” he points out with a frown. “Best to get it checked properly, yes?”
“I … yeah, okay,” you acquiesce quietly, not having the energy or brainpower to argue with him further.
The two of you disappear through a door and down a mercifully empty hallway, leaving the stunned crowd and flashing cameras behind. Samantha is rapidly conversing with security to locate the nearest medic station.
“Thank you,” you murmur, letting your head rest wearily against Lewis’ shoulder. Up close, he smells incredible — like crisp bergamot and just a hint of expensive cologne. “For helping me, I mean. I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than playing knight in shining armor.”
Lewis smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. “What a coincidence, I just so happen to be a knight.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling shy under his warm gaze. “Lucky for me then, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” he agrees with a wink. “Though I can’t take all the credit. That dress is clearly too stunning for us mere mortals to handle.”
A watery giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it. Even slightly concussed and in quite a bit of pain, you can’t deny that foreign flutters are dancing in your stomach just from being in Lewis’ presence. He’s even more charming in person than you ever could have dreamed.
“You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton,” you tease lightly. “But I’ll be sure to leave the couture gowns at home next time.”
Lewis opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Samantha hurrying over with a young medic in tow, his kit already open. The worried expression on her face deepens when she sees your obviously injured wrist cradled against your chest.
“Thank god you have her,” she exhales in relief, nodding towards Lewis. “What do we know so far?”
“Took a pretty hard fall down those stairs,” Lewis explains calmly as the medic kneels down to begin his assessment. “She was unconscious for a moment and seems to have injured her wrist as well.”
You wince as the medic gently prods along your forearm. “Definitely a sprain at the very least,” he confirms. “And with the way her pupils are reacting ...”
He shines a small light into both your eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’d say mild concussion too. We should get her to the infirmary for further evaluation, just in case.”
Hearing his words, a small wave of panic crashes over you. Missing any part of tonight because of this would be devastating. You force yourself to sit up straighter, ignoring the way the room spins sickeningly.
“No, no I’ll be fi-”
“You’re not going anywhere but to get checked out properly,” Lewis cuts you off firmly, placing a staying hand on your shoulder. His expression brooks no argument. “Head injuries are nothing to mess around with, love.”
You open your mouth to protest again, but Samantha quickly interjects. “He’s absolutely right. We’re not taking any chances with your health.”
As much as you hate to admit it, they do have a point. If your condition really is as serious as the medic suggests, it could be dangerous to simply brush it off. You let out a resigned sigh, wilting back against Lewis’ sturdy chest.
“I suppose you’re ri-”
Before you can finish your sentence, a sudden dizzy spell washes over you. Bile rises in your throat as the room tilts crazily. Your voice trails off into an anguished groan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea.
“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting you looked at immediately,” Lewis declares. He shifts you effortlessly in his arms and strides down the hallway, the medic and Samantha hurrying to keep up.
The rest of the journey to the infirmary is a blur. You’re vaguely aware of being transferred to a gurney and giving the doctor on staff your information. Lewis’ worried face keeps appearing in your line of vision, his voice a soothing balm against the incessant pounding in your skull.
Finally, the doctor confirms that while your concussion isn’t serious, you definitely need to be monitored overnight. A brace is fitted around your sprained wrist and you’re given strict instructions on managing the symptoms over the next few days. Throughout it all, Lewis remains stubbornly by your side, declining offer after offer to return to the main event.
Thoroughly drugged and exhausted by this point, you can barely keep your eyes open as a wheelchair is brought over to transport you out to the car waiting area. Lewis helps you into it carefully, crouching down in front of you with a tender expression.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble miserably, gesturing vaguely to your bandaged wrist and slightly dazed state. “I’ve completely ruined your whole night … your entrance, your photo ops … everything.”
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head adamantly. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. I’d take meeting someone as wonderful as you over all of that any day.”
You blink up at him in surprise, an embarrassed blush staining your cheeks. Did he really just say that? Lewis Hamilton, world famous athlete and heartthrob, thinks you’re wonderful?
“Still,” you protest weakly. “This is supposed to be your night to shine. And now you’re stuck playing nurse for a clumsy fool.”
Lewis arches an eyebrow sternly. “I think you’ve bumped your head around a bit too much, darling. That’s no way to speak about yourself.”
He reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingertips grazing your flushed cheek with unexpected tenderness. Your breath catches in your throat at the gentle gesture.
“Missing out on some silly party is more than worth it to me if I got to meet someone as lovely as you,” Lewis continues honestly. His eyes are filled with sincerity. “The only thing I’m upset about is that you were the one who got hurt.”
You’re rendered speechless for a long moment, completely disarmed by his words. Never in a million years could you have imagined this kind of scenario playing out tonight. Is this all really happening?
Finally, you manage a weak smile, blushing furiously under his warm regard. “You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton.”
“Please, call me Lewis,” he insists with a wink. “And let me know where you’re staying, yeah? I’ll come by tomorrow to check on how you’re doing myself.”
Your eyes widen in surprise and you quickly scramble to recall the name of your hotel. “U-Um, the Lotte New York Palace,” you stammer out shyly. “But you really don’t have to do that ...”
Lewis waves off your protest easily, rising to his feet with a soothing grin. “Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll be by with some breakfast to make sure my favorite new artist is being properly taken care of.”
With a final wink and dazzling smile, he steps aside to allow an assistant to wheel you towards the exit. Your head is still swimming, though you can’t blame it entirely on the concussion this time.
Did Lewis Hamilton, actual living legend, really just say he was coming to check on you tomorrow?
You allow yourself a tiny, bewildered smile as the night breeze washes over your heated cheeks. Somehow, despite all the mishaps, this crazy night had turned into something straight out of the kind of romantic comedy you secretly loved.
Perhaps falling on your face in front of the entire world wasn’t so disastrous after all.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lewis hamilton#lh44#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lewis hamilton x y/n#mercedes#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton fanfiction#met gala
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Kiss My Wounds | L. Hamilton
Request: Makeup or jealousy sex // Lewis comes home to her, because he had a really bad fight in the club (because of her, as some of his friends said something nasty about her) and even though they are not together, because they broke up..you know what happens next
Summary: read the request
Warnings: 18+ smut, angst, getting back together, protected sex (for the first time ever?!?!) riding, porn with plot (lots of plot)
Pairing: lewis x fem!ex!reader
wc: 2.9k
You were sitting on the couch with your head tilted back and your palm resting over your drooping eyes. So close to dozing off when your phone buzzed.
Startled by the vibration against your skin—as you had left your phone on your stomach—you picked it up and saw a text from him.
I'm here
Simple and to the point, because you two didn't text each other as often anymore. You were tempted to scroll and read through the conversations you shared when you two were still together, but you didn't want to break your own heart all over again.
You sighed and decided to get through this before you were able to think about everything that could go wrong.
Lewis was here to pick up a package that was accidentally delivered to your address instead of his.
When you texted him about it and asked when he would be available so you could drop it off, he suggested that he will come pick it up instead. Then, he was busy with races, so he never came around until now.
You opened the door, watching as he quickly pocketed his hands before looking at you. He wore an oversized jacket similar to his Mercedes one. The hood was covering most of his face and on top of that, it had a higher neckline that he raised further to cover his mouth.
You weren't new to this look, it was a habit of his to disguise himself so he wouldn't be recognized on the street.
However, it hurt knowing that he disguised himself because he was on the way to your place. That he didn't want to be recognized while coming up here.
Opening the door wider, you allowed him inside, letting him notice all the changes you made to the apartment in the last two months. There weren't any drastic differences, except for the fact that his touch was gone.
The small decorations he helped you choose when you first moved in were gone. He didn't utter a word, silently walking in and standing there, pretending like he didn't know every inch of the apartment.
You didn't wait for him to say anything, instead you went to the guest room to pick up the package so this could be over soon.
Having Lewis in your apartment again, in fact even seeing him again after breaking up, wasn't something you could've been prepared for. Not so soon.
The package is heavy, you remembered as you picked it up, almost tripping over due to the weight. That's why the doorman helped you bring it up when it first arrived.
Now, you wished you had asked if you could leave the package downstairs so Lewis wouldn't even have had to come up.
As you walked back in the main room, struggling with every step since your view was obstructed due to the size of the box, it was lifted away from your hands. Fingers grazed your own, and you let Lewis take the weight of the package since he was easily able to place it near the door.
He looked at the sealed box then at you, "you didn't open it?" You wanted to laugh at his question, out of all the ways he could behave, he wanted to keep it casual. It was so easy for him and realizing that, if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.
"It's not my business," anymore. You added in your mind but the implication was heard loud and clear.
He didn't say a word, but his eyes expressed the emotion you never wanted to see, hurt. "You know you don't have to keep that on while you're inside," you lifted your hand and gestured to his hood.
You didn't want him to stay long, but god did you want to see his face again. However, once your hand was raised, you noticed something on it that wasn't there before; blood.
When Lewis' hand grazed against yours earlier, he also accidentally smeared his blood on your skin. "Lewis?" You breathed his name as you looked at him, but his gaze was stuck on your hand.
There wasn't a lot, but you were still concerned as to why he was bleeding, and if not his, then whose blood was it?
He pocketed his hands again, and now you realize why he's so covered up. Forgetting about everything else, you rushed towards him, only stopping inches away.
Although hesitant but choosing not to ask, you removed his hood and pulled down the neckline to reveal his face. You gasped once you saw his busted lip, and there were surely some bruises beginning to form.
"What the fuck happened to you?" You asked, but he just shrugged. "Training accident, you know how those go."
You wanted to shake your head, to say that you didn't know. Not once has he ever come home injured because of training while you were together. Lewis looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction.
He knew that you knew he was lying, but he was so desperate to hear your voice, even if it was arguing with him. He was that desperate.
"Training?" You asked, and if it weren't for the worry that threatened to overtake you, you would've been amused at his attempt to lie.
"Can I see?" You gestured to his pocketed hands, and he nodded, removing them and wincing a bit when the wounds grazed over the fabric.
He held his hands out, letting you see his busted fists, both lightly covered in drying blood. "Fucking hell, Lew," you muttered, using his nickname which was so familiar to you that it still easily rolled off your tongue.
"You gotta clean this up," you spoke, looking at this hands then moving your gaze to his face, "all of it."
You dropped his hands and pushed him back, urging him to sit on the couch. "Wait here," you left the room before he could utter a word. Truthfully, he was just stunned into silence by your actions.
A few moments later, you walked back in the room, holding a first aid kit in your hands. Setting it down on the free space beside him, you took out a disinfectant with a cotton ball.
In a rush to clean up his wounds, you straddled him without hesitation. Lewis sighed, possibly in relief, but you didn't see it.
Holding one of his hands in yours, you lightly dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the drying blood. "Fuck," he hissed, and you muttered an apology.
Lewis' gaze was stuck on your face, watching as your brows knitted together in worry as well as the way you lightly bit your lip, completely focused.
After cleaning up both of his hands, you moved onto his face, and your eyes widened slightly when you realized he was already looking at you.
His intense gaze reminded you of the moments when you were together, how he looked at you when he was undoubtedly in love with you. "Lewis," you muttered.
He hummed in response and it almost pained you to say the next words, "close your eyes, please."
Shaking his head, "no." His response surprised you, but the words he said after left you speechless, "I want to look at you." He spoke so quietly that if you weren't looking at him, you probably wouldn't have known he had spoken.
Knowing that he wouldn't listen, you continued your task, taking a new cotton ball to dab on his lips.
You truly have no idea why you were doing this for him, perhaps it was because a part of you still cared. But, maybe you shouldn't have.
He made the simple task so much harder as soon as he parted his lips. Sure, it was in an attempt to help you, but your mind was flooded with many thoughts, and none of them could be said out loud.
"Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" You asked to get rid of the unholy thoughts brewing.
Since you were no longer holding his hands, Lewis rested them on your thighs as if it was a natural instinct. It was, once upon a time, but you thought he would've moved on from it by now.
You didn't comment on it and neither did he, instead he chose to finally tell you the truth. "I got into a fight," he said with a shrug.
"That seems obvious, but why?" You pressed on the matter further, and because he took a moment too long to answer, you increased the pressure on the cotton ball.
The pressure forced a hiss out of his mouth, and when his eyes connected with yours, he knew you did it on purpose.
A smile threatened to break out on his face, mainly because while everything changed between you two, it was still the same.
Then, realizing that you were still waiting for an answer, his face concealed the smile well. "Some of my friends started saying shit about you," he didn't want to go in the detail of what was said.
"And your first thought was to punch them?" You asked, almost amused but also worried because he wasn't ever violent.
"The second thought. You know I don't like people judging our relationship, doesn't matter if it's coming from my friends or not," Lewis explained.
"Lewis, we're not together anymore, so you have no reason to get into fights because of me." Lewis didn't like those words, so he shook his head.
You threw the cotton ball to the side once you were done, and finally, finally, noticed the position you were in.
He noticed the exact moment you realized, and tightened his grip on your thighs once you attempted to move away.
"You still care about me," he states like it was a fact but little did he know you were still undeniably in love with him.
"I would care about anyone that is hurt, you're not that special," you respond, trying to gain the upper hand. You relaxed in his grasp as one of his hands moved up and down your back in a soothing motion.
"Is that so?" He leaned back with his lips turning up in a lazy smirk, and that's when you knew that you'd lose this little back and forth battle.
You nodded, choosing not to say anything out loud. Lewis tugged you closer, bodies touching and lips only inches away.
Before anything could go further, even though you desperately wanted to kiss him, you had an important question. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" You wanted to ensure that you wouldn't increase his injuries.
He chuckled, "why don't you check?" The implications behind his words was clear. Your fingers found the zipper of his jacket, unzipping it at a teasingly slow speed.
He shrugged the jacket off and your fingers inched underneath his shirt, but this time Lewis couldn't wait. "Stop teasing, darling."
You removed his shirt and fortunately, there weren't any bruises forming. You traced his tattoos with your finger, following the ridges of his abs before stopped right above the waistband of his jeans.
"Hm, I don't think you need me anymore, you don't have any other cuts to clean," you stated, knowing that it wasn't the reason why Lewis wanted you to take off his shirt. But then again, you almost wanted him to beg.
His hands returned to your hips, and this time he tugged you oh so close, where you were able to feel the bulge of his erection through his jeans. "I think you and I both know how much I need you."
One of your hands rested on the nape of his neck, while the other was on his cheek. "Maybe you should show me," you suggested before pressing your lips against his.
Lewis bucked his hips up as soon as you let him deepen the kiss, which made you let out a sigh, swallowed by him.
His hands inched up your shirt, and you allowed him to take it off. Lewis tilted his head back with his eyes closed as soon as he got a small peak of your bare chest again. "Fuck," he groaned.
Then, his lips trailed kisses down your neck towards your tits, tongue circling your nipple before he engulfed it in his warm, wet mouth.
You tilted your head back in pleasure, allowing Lewis to rest his hand on your throat. He didn't restrict any airflow, but he just liked the way his tattooed hand looked resting on your throat.
"Fuck me," you muttered and Lewis was quick to capture your filthy mouth with his, stealing your breath from you.
His other hand dipped underneath your jeans, palming your ass but his gaze connected with yours. "Can I?" He asked, like he always did.
You nodded and leaned up, resting on your knees because you didn't want to slip off his lap. Lewis quickly unbuttoned your pants before sliding them off as much as he could.
You helped him remove the rest before straddling him again, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan at feeling you envelope his lap.
His hands roamed everywhere, as he had missed feeling your skin underneath his palms. "I think I might lose my mind if you don't ride me soon," he gritted out once you began grinding down on him.
You chuckled, stealing a kiss from him as your hands worked to unbutton his jeans. He managed to slip them off in record time, eager to be inside you.
Once you freed his cock from his boxers, he sighed in relief before his abs tensed as your hand moved up and down his length.
"Do you have a condom?" You asked, even though you two stopped using one when you were together. But you had to ask because it had been two months since you broke up and had no idea what Lewis did in that time.
"In my jeans," he answered, and you grabbed his pants that were discarded on the floor earlier. "I don't know if I should be impressed or disgusted," you stated with a teasing smile on your face, revealing that you weren't disgusted at all.
"Definitely impressed." His smirk was back, but it faltered as his lips parted once you rolled on the condom. "I don't know, it seems like you planned it."
"Maybe," he revealed with a grin on his face. But then, he turned serious before muttering the next words, "for the record, I haven't been with anyone else after you."
His words warmed your heart, "me neither." You were glad that you weren't the only one holding back.
You tugged your panties to the side, thinking that it would take too long to properly remove them, before you sunk down on Lewis's cock.
The two months apart almost made you forget how much he stretches you out, able to feel every ridge and bump a lot more this time
You stilled once every inch of him was inside you, breathing out slowly to get used to his size. He didn't rush you, enjoying the warmth he dearly missed. He was actually glad you stilled, or else it would've ended embarrassingly fast on his end.
His hand rounded to your front, fingers toying with your clit. You dropped your head on his shoulder once you started moving, gasping at the added pleasure of Lewis circling your clit.
His other hand remained on your ass, aiding your movements up and down, slowly picking up the speed until you were a moaning mess. He wasn't any better, choosing to be completely vocal.
"I don't think I'm going to last long," Lewis muttered, warning you but you agreed with him, "me too, fuck, you feel so good."
You pressed your lips against his again with the need to kiss him while your hands rested on his shoulders. Though, it ended up in sloppy kisses with little breaks in between because of gasps and moans you couldn't contain.
It didn't last long enough, both of you spilling over the edge without needing much stimulation but still not completely satisfied just yet. You slowed down before fully stopping.
"I missed you," Lewis stated, and you agreed, "I missed you too."
You eased off his cock, allowing him to get rid of the condom. Sitting side by side, his hand found yours and easily threaded his fingers between yours.
Lewis tilted your face towards him, "I still love you, I don't think I've regretted anything more than letting you walk out of my life."
You had a sad smile on your face, "we all make mistakes, some are more costly than others."
"Do you still?" He didn't have the heart to finish the question, maybe because he was still scared of the answer.
Your palm rested on his cheek, "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Lew."
A genuine smile crept up on his face, "good," he pulled you back on to his lap, "because we have two months worth of sex to catch up on."
You chucked at his words, but didn't deny it. You were about to kiss him but he leaned away, realizing something. "Hold on, I can't believe you threw out all my stuff,"
Once again you let out a laugh, "I didn't have the heart to throw it out, it's sitting in the guest room in boxes. Now are you going to fuck me or not?"
He didn't give you an answer, instead he lifted you and began walking towards your bedroom.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton fic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#thef1diary fic#smut#lewis hamilton angst#angst#f1 angst#f1 smut
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4k celebration
congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.
i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴
we made up.
LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration
in which you can never just bite your tongue
eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3
songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink
2.6k words
you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.
after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.
maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?
it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.
you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.
“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.
“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.
it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.
“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.
“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.
“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.
there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.
-
turns out, you have to apologise.
you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.
so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.
but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.
“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.
“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.
“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.
“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.
“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.
the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.
you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.
“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.
“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.
your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.
“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.
“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.
“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.
truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.
as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.
“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.
“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.
“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.
“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.
“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.
an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.
“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.
his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.
once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.
“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.
“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.
“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.
“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”
“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.
he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.
“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.
lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.
“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.
“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.
“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”
with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.
“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.
sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.
“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.
“learned your lesson?”
“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.
you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.
still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.
“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.
“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.
you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.
“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.
you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.
“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.
“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.
he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.
“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”
you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.
“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.
“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.
those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.
“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.
you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.
you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.
-
two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.
when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.
“we made up.”
-
oof
-
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“I Love You” ❁
f1 grid x fem!reader
this is a drabble based of the “i love you but not saying it back to your partner” tiktok trend
wc: 1.7k
authors note: this is my first drabble! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!
f1 masterlist
Lewis
You saw this TikTok trend and found it funny. Lewis was getting ready to go to his training session so it was the perfect time. Setting up your phone discreetly to capture the moment, he walked to the door, ready to leave.
“I love you,” he said warmly.
“Bye!” you responded, busy with mixing the batter for your cupcakes.
Lewis paused, a bit taken aback. “I love you,” he repeated, louder this time.
“Bye, Lewis! Hurry or you’ll be late!” you repeated, waving him off.
Lewis’s brow furrowed slightly. “Is everything okay baby? Did I do something wrong?”
“Lewis everything is fine, you can’t be late for your training session. I’ll see you later!” you say still paying him no mind, making sure the batter is mixed smoothly.
Lewis starts to worry that he did something wrong. “Baby I'm sorry if I did something that upset you. Can you please say I love you back” he says getting ready to cancel his session.
Finally, you broke into laughter, revealing you were just playing with him. “No, it’s just a TikTok trend. I promise you did nothing wrong. I love you baby!” you say walking up to him.
Relieved, Lewis laughs giving you a quick kiss. “You got me good. I love you too,” he said, leaving with a smile.
Max
You are always up for a good laugh, so you decided to try the trend with Max before he heads to his meeting.
“I love you,” Max said, grabbing his keys to the car.
“Bye, Max. Be safe!” you responded nonchalantly from the couch watching a true story documentary.
Max stopped in his tracks. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone more insistent.
“Bye!” you replied, looking at the tv with a faint smirk.
Max’s usually confident expression faltered. “Is something wrong? Why aren’t you saying it back?”
“Saying what back?” you say with a confused face trying to mask your laughter.
“I love you, Y/N. Say it back.” Max says no longer in the door but in front of you blocking the tv.
You couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “It’s a just TikTok trend, babe!”
Max's shoulders dropped in relief, laughing with you. “You made me so worried! I thought I did something to piss you off or forgot an important day! I love you too.” he says shaking his head making his way to the door.
Lando
Lando loves to play tricks and pranks on you so you decided it’s time to return the favor. You set the camera up on the dresser as you sit up in bed. Lando is on his way to film a YouTube video for Quadrant.
“I love you,” he said cheerfully.
“Bye, Lando!” you replied, focused on your phone.
Lando stops in his spot, staring at you. “I love you,” he repeated, sounding more unsure.
“Bye! Have fun!” you said again, trying not to smile.
Lando’s playful demeanor turned serious. His heart racing. “What’s wrong with you?”
Looking at him confusedly, you say “Nothing, why?”
“Why? Um, maybe because you aren’t saying “I love you” back to me” Lando says now siting on the bed infront if you.
“Did I do something wrong? Why won’t you say it back” he adds.
Unable to play along anymore you laugh, saying “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby.”
Lando lays his back in the bed singing in relief, “You scared me, I was about to call Oscar and ask Lily to see what’s wrong with you.
“Aww baby” you say moving to laying on top of him. Smiling at him while you kiss his nose you say, “I love you!”
Lando smiles hugging you and flipping you over so now he’s on top. “I’m so gonna get you back, but I love you too.” he says giggling in your neck.
Charles
Charles was going to take Leo for a walk, you decided to stay back to make lunch. You set up the camera on the kitchen counter ready to prank Charles.
“I love you,” he said softly, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he hold Leo in his hands.
“Bye, Charles. Bye, Leo!” you say only paying attention to Leo not him.
Charles repeats himself. “I love you, mon cherìe” he says again, a little louder.
“Bye!” you repeated, paying him no mind.
Charles’s face showed genuine concern. “Is everything okay? Did I upset you?”
“Yes everything’s fine.” you say trying to ignore his presence again.
He sets Leo down and stares and the side of your head and says even louder, “I love you, mon chéri”
You do your best to hold your composure and not laugh while focusing on the task in front of you, “Bye Charles, be safe!” you say in a normal voice.
Charles' eyes bore into you and the next thing you know, you feel one hand under your chin, the other on your waist turning you to face him. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss.
You smile as he kisses you between each word, giggling at him, you say “I love you Charles.” “I’m just playing with you baby, it’s a trend going around on TikTok.”
Charles shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t ever do that again, mon chéri” “You really had me worried. Thank you for finally saying it back. I love you too.” he says smiling cheekily, giving you a kiss on the lips before he’s out the door with Leo.
Oscar
The trend has been going around on TikTok for a min now and you immediately knew you had to play this prank on Oscar. He’s always so calm and laid back so you wondered if this will get to him. He’s getting ready to leave to record some videos with Lando for McLaren, so this is the best time to do it.
“I love you,” he said with a smile, halfway out the door of the hotel room.
“Bye, Oscar!” you replied, not meeting his eyes.
Oscar stopped dead in his tracks looking confused. He turns his body around at the door. “I love you,” he says again, trying to get your attention.
“Bye, Oscar!” you respond, hiding your smile behind the blanket as you play a game on your phone.
Oscar still has a confused look on his face as he says, “I love you, Y/N.” You don’t respond instead just straight up ignore him.
He walks back into the room, closing the door. He stands at your side and repeats himself with his arms crossed. “I love you Y/N.”
You look up at him and say “Okay, hurry and go before you're late!”
Oscar looks at you dumbfounded and gets on the bed laying on top of you. You groan and try to push him off, “Oscar get off! You're going to be late! You have to go! you say still trying to escape free.
“No, not until you tell me what I did to make you so upset that you're not saying “I love you” back to me” he says , putting even more of his weight on you.
You laugh saying, “Aww, babe, it’s just a prank.“ It’s a TikTok trend!”
Oscar lifts himself off of you, and sighs in relief laying next to you, laughing. “You know I only just joined TikTok, you had me really worried there. You laugh rolling on him to give him a kiss. “I know. I love you too, babe, even if you do act like a millennial sometimes.”
“Hey!” he says as he rolls over trapping you as he attacks you with tickles to your stomach and kisses all over your face.
Carlos
Carlos is on his way to a photo shoot with Charles and Ferrari for Vogue. You decide it’s the perfect time to do the TikTok prank on him.
“I love you,” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead, his eyes twinkling.
“Bye, Carlos!” you reply, barely glancing at him as you walk away.
Carlos paused, looking puzzled. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone even louder.
“Bye!” you say again, stifling a giggle as you sit on the couch, searching through Hulu for a show to watch.
Carlos’s face falls. He walks towards you and says your name. You ignore him and now he’s sitting on the couch next to you just staring.
Feeling his eyes burn through the side of your head you turn to him and say “Did you forget something? You can’t be late for this photoshoot.”
“Ah okay, I see how it is. You acknowledge my presence to ask me if I forgot something but you can’t say “I love you” back to me?” he says moving closer to you on the couch.
Ignoring what he said, you say “Bye!”
Carlos doesn’t move and just sits there and grabs your chin and says “Repeat after me cariño. Say “I”
“Bye” you say.
“No, say “I”, he says again.
“Bye.” you respond.
Carlos shifts in his seat moving even closer to you, saying “Cariño say the word “I”
You look Carlos dead in the eyes and say “Bye.”
“Okay, that’s how you wanna play.” he says as he tackles you softly on the couch, your back hitting the sofa with him on top of you pulling your shirt up revealing your stomach.
Holding the shirt he says, “I’m going to ask you one more time, cariño, say “I love you.”
“No.” Just as that word escapes your mouth you feel him blowing raspberries on your stomach, tickling you as you try your best to escape from his hold. “Say it!” he yells. “No!” and now he’s biting your cheeks and kissing you all over your face.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you” Say it back he says not stopping his attacks.
“Okay, okay!” “I love you, Carlos,” you say breathlessly.
Laughing as you try to catch your breath. You kiss him all over his face, telling him, “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby. You know I love you so so much!”
Carlos laughs, “Of course it is, you and your TikTok addiction” “Hey!” you say eyes wide as he calls you out. “I’m just playing cariño, your TikTok addiction is cute, not so nice when the tricks are played on you huh?” “Yea, yea, whatever!” You say pushing him off smiling.
© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.
#ꨄ࿎victoria’s writings!࿎ꨄ#f1 lewis#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#formula 1#formula one#formula 1 smau#f1 grid#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1
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Try Again Pt.1
Pairing: Ex!Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: None
A/N: inspired by a comment from @forevercaffeinated-lee on silence about a typo that actually inspired me to write a full fic!
Pt.2
———————————————————————
INSTAGRAM
lewishamilton
liked by virgilvandijk selenagomez and 6,008,921 others
lewishamilton best you’ll ever have
load comments…
user1 oh no…
user2 Lewis put the boobs away
user3 is this a thirst trap???
user4 I see Lewis is handling the breakup well
user5 SLAYYYY
justinbieber 🔥
user6 as a y/n stan, this caption feels like the wrong move
↳ user7 was it even a bad breakup??!
↳ user8 sources say it was a mutually bad breakup but y/n was the first to actually say the words
↳ user9 and then Lewis posts with a shady caption 🤦♀️
user10 idc about y'all a win is a win
user11 🥵
charles_leclerc 👍
↳ user12 lmao is this shade
yourusername
liked by champagnepapi mercedesamgf1 and 15,080,321 others
yourusername who?
load comments…
user13 YASSSSSS
user14 we live
mercedesamgf1 ✨✨✨
↳ user15 lmao not Mercedes commenting on lewis’ ex’s post shading him
↳ mercedesamgf1 y/n stans forever
landonorris 💫
carlossainz 🎉🎉🎉
lilymhe i <3 u
↳ yourusername no u
charles_leclerc slayed
user16 I guess we know who got the drivers in the divorce
↳ user17 and the wags
↳ user18 definitely wasn't Lewis
champagnepapi 😍
lewishamilton
liked by judebellingham hannalola and 15,003,891 others
lewishamilton never been better
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user19 yikes
user20 oh Lewis no
user21 🥵
user22 bad look tbh
user23 who's the girl
↳ user24 some girl named Hanna or wtver. Think she's an ig model
hannalola ❤️
user25 Y/N FIGHT BACK!!!
user26 I think he was definitely better when he was the wdc and dating the love of his life
↳ user27 let him live his delusions
yourusername
liked by rubendias badgalriri and 21,008,991 others
yourusername send my love (to your new lover) out now 🖤
load comments…
user28 ITS SO GOOD
user29 YESSSSSSS
badgalriri 🖤🖤🖤
user30 TREAT HER BETTERRRR
user31 Lewis is screaming
rubendias 🔥
liked by yourusername
user32 I miss them 😭
user33 WE BOTH KNOW WE AINT KIDS NO MORE
user34 because they were both so young when the got together I’m gonna scream 😭
user35 I want dad back 😞
user36 GOTTA LET GO OF ALL OF OUR GHOSTSSSSS
lewishamilton
liked by hannalola arianagrande and 16,003,092 others
lewishamilton love you
load comments…
user37 me when I lie
user38 please no
user39 send my love….
landonorris 🍅🍅🍅
charles_leclerc boo
user40 side eye
user41 😒😒😒
alex_albon that was…
↳ lilymhe quick 🧐
user42 someone save Lewis
↳ user43 he needs to save himself
MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by landonorris vogue and 26,008,012 others
yourusername love me harder (ft xnda) out now.
load comments…
user43 YEAHHHHHHH
user44 what????!!!
user45 ARE YOU KIDDING
charles_leclerc 🙌 so good
↳ landonorris well, most parts…
↳ user46 yeah all the parts where Lewis isn’t singing
user47 these lyrics are so ironic for having been written before the breakup lmao
user48 ON REPEAT
user49 TELL ME SOMETHING I NEED TO KNOW
vogue ✨
iheartradio 🖤
user50 IF YOU REALLY NEED ME YOU GOTTA LOVE ME HARDER
MESSAGES
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#lewis hamilton smau
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It's Mrs. Hamilton - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
request: "I don't know if you saw that video of Barbara Palvin where they yell at her on a red carpet "Ms. Palvin, one more" and she yells "it's Mrs. Sprouse now" too iconic. Could you write something like that? But let Lewis see the video online and get excited and when he gets home he marks her as his wife..." - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities, (p in v), oral sex
Also, wrap it before you tap it
wordcount: +1K
a/n: This smut sort of has a plot, so thanks anon. Also, I cut your request because of how descriptive it was and I try to keep the explicit part under the cut, but everything you asked is down there.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.
______________________________________________________________
You returned to your apartment late in the evening, the soft hum of the city outside providing a gentle backdrop to your thoughts. The golden glow from the streetlights filtered through the windows, casting a warm, inviting atmosphere within. You had spent the day planning how to surprise your husband by coming home a few days earlier, eager to see his reaction. However, as you stepped into the entrance hall, your plans momentarily vanished from your mind.
Sneakers lay abandoned by the door, a wallet and bag casually discarded on the side table, and a hoodie carelessly thrown over the sofa. The apartment felt alive, yet Lewis was nowhere in sight.
“Lew, you home already?” Your voice echoed through the apartment; the silence broken only by the soft whimpers that floated from the last door on the right. Curiosity piqued, you approached, the soft carpet cushioning your footsteps.
He was truly a vision as you walked into the main bedroom, pillows stacked up on the headboard, the room dimly lit by a bedside lamp casting a warm glow, his torso adorned with a white tank, the fabric clinging to his sculpted form, arms glistening with a light layer of sweat. His legs were thrown open in the bed and his hands took the place your mouth used to go, fingers coated with precum, slowly moving up and down his rock-hard dick.
The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly laundered sheets. Leaning against a pillar beside the bed, you became an unseen observer, captivated by the sight before you. His legs twitched occasionally, his eyes tightly shut, mouth opening to release deep, distinctive grunts. A video played on his phone caught your attention. At first glance, you thought it was pornography, but upon listening more closely, you recognized your own voice saying, “It’s Mrs. Hamilton now, actually.”
A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you watched him and couldn’t help the smug reaction you had to realizing that the video, he had sent you just hours ago, had him pumping like shit for a while. Your voice saying the last name you now shared, those words that had such a hold on him, enough to get him hard and panting like he was.
His breaths were heavy, his body tense with anticipation, every muscle poised for release. It was a sight that made your heart race. You leaned down on his side, your lips brushing against his ear, whispering, “Caught you” His eyes flew open, a mix of shock and pleasure flashing in them as he realized you were there, watching him.
“Babe” he gasped, a flush spreading across his cheeks, but there was no shame in his voice, only a deeper urgency. His arms reached out, pulling you closer, his lips finding yours in a desperate kiss, tasting of need and longing.
You felt his body shudder beneath you, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you onto the bed beside him. “I thought you weren’t coming today. I would’ve waited for you” he murmured in your lips as his hands wasted no time in getting you out of your pants and panties.
You sunk down on him, no foreplay needed after the couple of minutes you’d spent hearing him. His hands roaming under your shirt and bra while you rocked in his dick for a few moments, letting him come down from the frenzy for a bit.
When you finally adjusted your knees around him and started up and down movements his eyes circled to the back of his skull. His hands went to your waist and his hips thrusted back up each time you went down on him, his grunts getting heavier by the second. When you gave the slightest sign of slowing down, he got up and flipped on the bed, not leaving you empty for a second, starting to pump into you just as your back had hit the pillows.
“Mark me, show me who I belong to” you shakily managed to get out, knowing he was getting close to his orgasm as his thrusts got deeper and his breathing heavier. Your words acting as his cue to let go and get his release, adjust his body so he held his weight in his arms as he locked you in his embrace, his stare holding yours like the very moment held all his universe.
When his body collapsed in yours and the only strength he had was just about enough for a single last thrust, you made sure to hold his shoulders in your embrace. The after shivers he’d get made his still semi hard dick brush your walls, and you couldn’t help the moan that left your lips, his eyes darkening all over again as he looked back at your pleasure contorted features.
He carefully slid out of you, watching as his seed dripped out of you, mixed with your own. His middle and ring fingers softly went over your cunt, collecting some of your juices before putting them in your mouth. The choice of fingers not lost on you as his wedding band hit your teeth.
“You’re mine, y/n” his eyes following your movements as your hips buckled when his fingers touched your clit, swirling around the inflamed button as he drowned in your cries and whimpers. His lips and tongue finding their way down to your pussy not long after, on a mission to drawn as many orgasms as he could from you that night.
As the high of your whatever orgasm calmed down, you felt Lewis coming back up and wrapping you in his arms. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your skin, soothing and tender. “You okay, love?” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
You nodded, a contented smile gracing your lips. “More than okay.” you replied, nestling closer to him, enjoying the comforting weight of his arms around you. Lewis chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection and a playful glint as he quipped “So, about that 'Mrs. Hamilton' video.” he began, his tone light but curious.
Feeling mischievous, you looked up at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Oh, Lew” you began, drawing out his nickname for added effect, “It was just a little teaser. I didn’t expect you to be so... demonstrative in your appreciation.” You giggled, playfully tracing a pattern on his chest.
Lewis raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “Come on now, y/n. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. “Who, me? I was merely sending you a friendly video. I had no idea it would have you in such a state.” His laughter filled the room once more, the tension from earlier completely dissipated. “Friendly, you say? Well, your definition of friendly certainly has a new meaning now.”
You grinned, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I guess it does. But you have to admit, it was fun watching you get all worked up over a simple name change.”
Lewis chuckled, pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you. “It’s not just the name. It’s the woman that’s carrying that name.” Your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through you. “Well, Sir Hamilton, you’re not so bad yourself.” You teased as you watched his features darken again, a smirk already plastered on your lips as you heard the groan at the back of his throat.
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#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#ella asks
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Could you write a lh44 x reader fic, where she is driving to sliverstone for quali and gets into a car accident. And right before Lewis gets into the car for quali someone tells him what happened and he drops everything and goes to her?
Mood Board for the next fic!
songs: hey there delilah by plain white ts, in the stars by benson boone, minefields by faouzia
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can you write the f1 dilfs sucking on tits cause it's a need not a want at this point love!!
A/N: I'm doing Lewis, Jenson, and Sebastian. Also warning for slight lactation kink, whoops
Lewis:
He's been dying for 9 months, to wrap his lips around your tits. He's missed them a lot more than he'd rather to admit, fuck even caught himself staring so damn hard he could almost feel your soft flesh in his mouth and the little whimpers you'd let loose when he swirls his tongue and gently bites, fuck he missed it like damn drug.
Yet, 9 months ago you decided to pierce both your nipples and when he found out, he got so damn hard and immediately went to suck on them. But when your hand pushed him back, he was so confused. "No touching," Lewis groans, reaching out again and you slap his hand. "Lewis, you can't touch them for a while," Lewis looks up shocked and you giggle at his confused face. "How long?" He groans staring at them, wanting to suck them into his mouth. "9 months."
So here he was, having finally reached the tail end of the 9 months and he couldn't wait to feel the metal on his tongue and the sweet whimpers he was about to pull out of your mouth. "Now can I?" He asks, and you look up from the couch. ever since you got them pierced, you haven't really worn a bra, wanting them to heal quicker.
"Sure," You giggle, Lewis wasted no time dipping his head down and slowly rolling his tongue over the sensitive nipple, dropping your phone, head rolling back you whimper when he lightly nips and you jump at the feeling. Lewis groans, having missed the feeling of it in his mouth. "Fucking gorgeous, now, I wonder if you could orgasm from this alone." You whine and nod your head wanting to find out if he could do this.
Jenson:
You don't know what it was, but you needed something to help you with your period. You kept thinking maybe it was a food craving. Going to the kitchen you whine when the food just made you twitch your nose. Okay, not a food craving maybe you wanted to be wrapped in warmth even though it was becoming spring, you needed it to be hotter. Nope, that just made you uncomfortable and you wanted to cry.
You try one last thing, which was you playing with your tits. You hiss at how sensitive they are, but it feels so good, but it's not enough. Looking at the clock you whine and throw yourself onto the couch as your boyfriend wasn't due home for another hour.
So closing your eyes and lying on the couch you have no shame ripping your bra off and tossing it somewhere. Wearing on of Jenson's soft white t-shirts you start to play with your tits, whining as it wasn't enough but just right for the moment.
Jenson smiles as he steps into the apartment, as he was bringing you flowers and your favorite products to help with the period. Moving down the hall he stops, seeing your bra just lying on the floor. "Sweetie?" Shrugging off his Mclaren jacket and hat he walks in and stops seeing the sight before him.
"Jense, they hurt. Help me?" He swears under his breath and moves forward, kicking off his shoes in the process. "Aww, sweetie, do they hurt?" You nod your head and remove your shirt, Jenson unable to stop himself as he licks his lips. "Suck them, please?" Jenson nods and drops to his knees, placing soft kisses everywhere but where you needed him.
"Jenseeeeee, please they're so sore." You're on the verge of crying when Jenson finally sucks the first nipple in, almost like a muscle has stopped being tight you relax and breath out in relief. Jenson smiles around and moves to the next one, relaxing even more as you tangle your fingers in his shirt hair tugging a little bit. He pulls off and licks around them before looking up at you and nipping at them, which has you whimpering. "Shhh, I've got."
Sebastian:
You loved your husband, but right now you hated the little alien inside you. You back hurt, bones aching, head pounding, your blood pressure was going up and down like crazy, you were once crazy horny that Sebastian joked like you were fucking like bunnies.
That caused you not to touch him for almost a month because you were so angry. He dealt with it all like a champ really. You couldn't have asked for a better husband or father of your child. But, right now you wanted to punch him awake as you felt like your breasts were about to burst.
He was peacefully sleeping and here you were, dying from the pain and the need to have them sucked on. "Seb," You whisper, poking him hard in his ribs. Sitting up quick you giggle at his wild ass curls sticking up everywhere. "What? What's wrong, are you okay?" He flips on a light and stops seeing the glare and how you're no longer wearing a shirt, much less a bra. Sebastian looks you over and notices how swollen your breasts look and sigh.
"Need me to suck on them, hmm?" You groan and move, getting comfortable as he lazily lies down and sucks on into his mouth. Hissing you relax slowly with each suck his mouth does. Sebastian puts a little bit more pressure and groan when something wet lands on his tongue. Pulling off his moans, and smirks up at you. Neither of you say anything as when he was driving for red bull and you two first started to date, you were made clear of his kinks.
But now with him Ferrari, he seemed to become the one in control, but you sometimes missed those days and right now you felt like it was the old times. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, growing out baby, providing for them, fuck." Sebastian goes to your other breast as the other wasn't as swollen anymore.
Whining you pull him closer, as he sucks even pulling out some milk. In that moment you didn't care it just felt to damn good.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 fandom#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fiction#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 one shot#f1 x female reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton smut#jenson button x reader#jenson button imagine#jenson button f1#jenson button x you#jenson button smut#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel x you
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